The title of IANVA's thunderous new full-length is mostly self-explanatory. As in “Italia: Ultimo Atto”, a veristic narrative is used with the help of tracks conceived as snapshots of real events and characters – hether they be famous or unknown – caught in the very same moment where History itself is unfolding, and trying to grasp the essence of a Spirit overlooking and encompassing stories and lives. The Spirit that is meant to be summoned is that of Decadence, as it manifested itself through the European culture and arts before those apocalyptic events we all know upset and overturned forever the face of the entire Continent. Presented is a real gallery of ghosts where the ineffable European Canon – today reported missing and unlamented - is back and still haunting, powerfully conjuring some noble causes as well as dubious excesses, Olympian Beauty as well as suicidal gloomy eccentricities. Nevertheless, it contains and epitomizes us all, and its dispersion corresponds to our very same extinction. To address such a complex and difficult issue that has obsessed for decades legions of illustrious predecessors, IANVA look at these artists more carefully and clearly than in the past. And today the usual assault of IANVA's all Italian vintage soundtrack sound meets the Central European suggestions and motorik influences (the backbone of the first and best new wave and new romantic releases), with the help of various guests whose experience in “decadent suggestions” is well-known. The 19th Century Melodrama meets the clangor of Industrial Revolution: Chanson, Cabaret and Neoclassical resonating with echoes of European monumental cemeteries. The European Canon is still here. Enjoy.
Tracklist:
01. πάροδος 02. Hellas 03. Come Ferro battente 04. Resurgente 05. Canone Europeo 06. Le Rital 07. Rombo di giovane Ala 08. L'Alba delle Ceneri 09. Benvenuto 10. Nessuna Croce manca 11. Cummandar as Shaitan 12. Patmos
Genre: Neofolk, Folk Rock, Chanson, Acoustic Like: Fire+Ice, Of the Wand and the Moon, Spiritual Front, Camerata Mediolanense, Calle Della Morte
