This is the self-titled debut album by Carducci Bros. who naturally enough is the band formed by brothers Marc and Joe Carducci, alongside honorary brothers Mike Watt and Jerry Trebotic. As far as I can ascertain they have nothing to do with the Carducci String Quartet who famously re-interpreted Philip Glass' work. Joe handles the vocals with Mark on guitar and of course Mike on the bass, Jerry is behind the drum kit. They have created an album that reminds me a lot of Mick Farren & Jack Lancasters The Deathray Tapes.
The album opens with The Somnambulist Stumbles slowly across your speakers, with a descending bassline that feels like he's just about upright, the guitar squiggles and weaves, like it can just about keep its eyes open.
The Wuhan is about that virus destroying Joe's voice and all the various weird conspiracy theories about Covid and other things, with the drums the central instrument, the guitar seems to take a back seat for most of this song.
Edgewise has floridly edgy guitar runs with a sinuous bass line, creating the sort of storm of noise that frightens and intrigues, never quite falling off that precipice but always teetering on the edge.
The deep bass fusion of About Ourselves, the guitar flies all over the map, the narration in a slow husky voice takes us down to the darkest streets, talking about low life and the deep need to achieve devious results, opposite to the ones you state your aiming for, so that the deepest truth you'll ever hear will come in the form of a lie.
Bet The Tent has heavier guitar, with super deep bass, relatively sparse drums, for this tale of living a Bet Life and betting on all sorts of things you shouldn't be betting on, the odds are stacked against you, whatever you do never let on who you really are. I'd like to hear this song re-worked as Fet In the Tent about someone addicted to the Fetlife website and all that offers, like they are hooked on all sorts of gambling sites.
The Next Stage Of Belief thankfully is about the night sky and the stars and not that next stage, where you start believing what politicians say, this slow rumbling narration of the thoughts that crop up, while you stare up in that night sky at midnight with one last smoke, drink and shot to carry you away.
You Lived It, We Played It has exploratory guitar set against the slow dark bass and drums for the narration of all the heavy rotation, overplaying your hits till you have to drop out to get away, from those tunes deeply embellished in your brain, trying to avoid Jan Wenner on the golf course in case he's playing a round with the orange one.
The album closes with The Clock Ticks one final dark edged fusion punk jazz work out as they stare at the clock figuring out just how that girl learns how quickly life can go by.
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