Oper'azione Nafta's Free Clinic

Though they might not want to admit it, there are “Mody Dick” sized breakbeats underneath the improv sweat and tears and permanent scars splayed out by Oper’azione Nafta. A decade’s worth of discordant antipasto dinosaur riffs. That’s the thing about the Silt Rx, take one this morning and you’ll truly feel it ten years down the road. I’ll be the first to admit in high school I tried it a few times, but Harry Pussy was total fucking garbage and I never caught a buzz. A handful of records kept me faithful (those Fieldhands, that Rep and Pollard guys) though it took a big chunk of my life to grasp the master plan (still don’t think I got it).

About two minutes into this one the horns start to wail (like a hard black thing), trying desperately to squabble over the guitar and drum (a’la XXNOBBQXX) dental dam that continuously vex into oblivion (or at least a version of plagal stasis that links them to Dead C and those inclined to spiral and curdle simultaneously). That’s when I feel a swift kick to my gut (which certainly needs checked) only to turn around to a brick wall, the bruises equal to the diabetes blotch, the mental anguish enough to torment the next half of my existence as long as the record keeps playing en mi casa. This one is a mammoth grower, monolithic "maximalism" to shape middle-age.

“E’” sonically shifts with the gales, a six-legged wind-chime. That rascally brass drunkenly dives into the frame again, but it’s ceremoniously welcome. Indeed context has no context. Venture to the second side and a whole different setting is set. In my mind it’s a garage, where the primed trio set-up shop (surrounded by hills, ocean, sports cars, vino, the dodgy post?) and recorded in a night. The braggadocio brothers make a noise-record in 24 hours, free music completely inspired by the Boredoms (sounds if they’re satirizing the Boredoms). Perhaps the best thing about free music is to not try and explain, simply let it settle, ‘cept this boil never exactly settles. Here is me, in a drunken waltz, flipping it over again. Better let them explain – heady stuff:

“My dear, in this music, in our music flutter the metaphor of combustion. When we listen ourselves playing or (passively) listening our records it’s clear that oper’azione nafta is/has been/will be everything we have listened until today, but compressed and burned. The referential line can draw from the earliest (and not) rock sonorities (and not).The key-influences are sure: hard rock( where we come from philologically) +grunge+ noise rock+ funky+ unfusion + unwave + radicalmetatheatre + unARTrock + electracoustic + unjazz+ freeform..& other whit a strong propencity to MAXIMALISM in the compositiv/impro phase and so in the global sound of the trio. This cheeky tendencity to the caos make us live some anomalous sensations; in the live dimension,in fact, this caos take the listeners (poor and potential ungrateful of our tendencies) to a kind of repudiation, but we,strong believers in us as the only way of expressive rejection, react showing a provocative attitude..and in this circumscribed public open mentality WE ABUSE, SPERMING IN THEIR EARS AND TRY TO HELP THEM TO THE NOT-EASY IMPACT WITH SLIDE PROJECTIONS distracting them by the playing trio. It..s strange for them, but our land public is seriously considered from us (instead of them), in fact express ourselves in a so care-less way in dialect make revalue us their auditive lacks, so we love them because they..re present and take part of the rite. We are sure that oper..azione nafta likes to the good will people and open the doors and the ties created by the sectorial genres that TODAY oppress the musical masses/tides blocking their wings.”

Lots o’ vids of the kookiness here, even an homage to their benefactor(s).