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What began as a chance encounter with Melting Clock's bassist Alessandro Bosca in 2017 has turned into a good friendship with the whole band.

Their debut album Destinazioni was released at the end of October and it has the potential to stamp their mark firmly on the prog map.

ProgBlog traces their journey...

By ProgBlog, Dec 20 2019 09:43PM

I’d just gone to buy myself a beer during a break between bands at the 2017 Porto Antico Prog Fest in Genoa when Alessandro Bosca, the bassist from Melting Clock who had just completed their set, also arrived at the drink stand. I introduced myself and told him how much I’d enjoyed their performance, indicating that I’d be writing a review article of the Prog Fest for the blog and Alessandro asked me if I’d like to hear some studio-quality demos of their songs. He passed on my details to Stefano Amadei, acting manager and one of the band’s two guitarists, who sent me files for four tracks, describing them as ‘something we recorded in only two days to present ourselves to venues’. I’d been impressed by their live appearance (their live debut) but the demos L'occhio dello Sciacallo, Antares, Sono Luce and Strade Affollate, all aired at the gig, were beautifully produced and allowed me to fully appreciate their song-craft and playing, even replicating the tingling sensation provoked by Emanuela Vedana’s vocals on Antares. Listening to the download, I was reminded of mid 70's Renaissance: melodic, symphonic and well constructed, though Melting Clock were more complex and had an audible Mediterranean influence. When I told Stefano he was flattered, but said they had only recently discovered Renaissance when some of their friends had made the same connection.


Melting Clock, Porto Antico Prog Fest 2017
Melting Clock, Porto Antico Prog Fest 2017

The origins of Melting Clock can be traced back to the Department of Physics at the University of Genoa in 2001. Stefano explained to me that the original objectives of a small group of friends was to have fun making music, describing the attempts of the fledgling group to play covers from the bands they loved but ‘were so bad that we were off beat on the various section of the songs’. This prompted Alessandro to apply the Italian slang ‘ci sciogliamo il tempo’ (‘we are melting our time’), meaning that they were forgetting or loosing the rhythmand beat, while sparking the connection with the melting clocks in Salvador Dali's 1931 masterpiece The Persistence of Memory that some have suggested was inspired by Einstein's theory of General Relativity. According to Stefano they adopted the moniker Melting Clock as a private joke: a comment on their musical skills and a pretentious link to the nerdy background (Stefano’s description) of the line up at the time.


Four of the original line-up remain: brothers Sandro and Stefano Amadei (keyboards and voice, and guitars respectively); Alessandro Bosca (bass); and Francesco Fiorito (drums), while the current sextet is completed by Simone Caffè (guitars) and Emanuela Vedana (vocals). It surprised me that their coherent, largely symphonic style should result from a wide range of influences because Francesco and Stefano are metal-heads, Simone is a David Gilmour fan, and Sandro listens to Scandinavian jazz, though he has played with Daedalus, a Genoese prog-metal band alongside Fabio Gremo of Il Tempio delle Clessidre, and was a huge fan of Jordan Rudess, lending Rudess his Kurzweil K2600 when the Dream Theater keyboard player was on holiday in Italy and agreed to perform for the Italian Dreamers. The influence of contemporary acts like Porcupine Tree, Riverside, Opeth and Ayreon that the band say have shaped the direction of their sound is tempered by a critical understanding of the cultural significance of the music that came out of Italy in the 70s along with an appreciation of classic UK progressive rock; accompanying them to a gig reveals the depth of their knowledge of Italian prog, and each time I’ve seen them play, they’ve included a classic-prog cover in the set.


Melting Clock at La Claque, Genoa 11/11/2017
Melting Clock at La Claque, Genoa 11/11/2017

It would be fair to say that Genoa, or more broadly Liguria, played a key role in the rise of rock progressivo italiano and in my opinion, Melting Clock have the ability to take on the role of RPI standard-bearers for the entire country. Rubbing shoulders with the city’s original prog musicians and the bands that have more recently come to prominence, Stefano says that the members of Melting Clock are dismissive of any boundary imposed through generational differences. An indication that their music has the potential for broad appeal is the decision of Black Widow Records to allow the band to produce a limited 2LP edition, in purple vinyl, of the debut album. Black Widow co-owner Massimo Gasperini may have thought long and hard about the vinyl release when the band had enough material for three sides of an LP but a cover medley of King Crimson tracks 21st Century Schizoid Man, In the Court of the Crimson King and Starless, first aired to great response during a gig at Genoa’s L’Angelo Azzurro club in March 2019, would provide the material for side four. That performance had been rearranged and I missed the show, not arriving in Genoa until the following week, when I was treated to a band rehearsal where they ran through the entire set from the performance and, warned of a surprise inclusion to the set list, was absolutely blown away by the medley Alla Corte del Re Cremisi, artfully segued together and enhanced by violin from Hanako Tsushima.



Melting Clock rehearsal 21/3/2019
Melting Clock rehearsal 21/3/2019

When I met up with the whole band at the 2018 Porto Antico Prog Fest, we had a lengthy discussion about the merits of singing in their native tongue, unanimously agreeing that it was preferable for a rock progressivo Italiano outfit to sing in Italian. It was clear that they also understood overcoming the language barrier was likely to make their music accessible to the wider public and were considering, at least on one of the formats for their forthcoming debut, to include a bonus track of original music with lyrics translated and sung in English to expand their appeal or perhaps, like veteran local group and Black Widow Records stable mate Il Cerchio d’Oro on their 2008 album Il Viaggio di Colombo, include English translations of the Italian lyrics; what we get in both CD and vinyl editions of Destinazioni is a full English translation of the song words by Emanuela and Stefano providing an interpretation for non-Italian speakers. The Italian singing is expressive and poetic and at times almost operatic; the translations reveal an impressionistic flair that reminds me of Peter Sinfield’s best work – much of it for PFM.

I was also asked my opinion of the proposed album artwork which had divided opinion amongst the members. Initially thinking that the cover, painted by their friend Matteo Anselmo, didn’t accurately reflect the genre, I began to change my opinion because the depiction of the young woman at the bus stop waiting for a boat links the music, especially Antares and title track Destinazioni to Genoa; Stefano later confessed how he feels connected to the sea at a performance of Höstsonaten’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, an admission that caused me no surprise as he’d grown up on the Ligurian coast and something I could empathise with, having spent my formative years in a shipbuilding town in the north west of England.


Destinazioni
Destinazioni

Not only has the material has matured since the original demo and the original live performances, the compositions are thematically linked by the representation of different aspects of a journey. Though the music is largely credited to Simone and Sandro, with a good proportion of the lyrics provided by Emanuela, the process of structuring each piece is dependent on rhythmic arrangement by Francesco and Alessandro and colour and mood supplied by Stefano. Having originally begun recording the album in November 2018, the time spent in Studio MAIA under the direction of Andrea Torretta was used wisely, settling on the most satisfying arrangements that capture the drama of each individual story. Stefano explained that he wasn’t interested in music that he found unchallenging, describing their style as being characterised by evocative and engaging sounds which belie the compositional complexity, drawing in the listener, which reflects how I felt when I first heard them in 2017.


Album opener Caleidoscopio was an excellent choice as a first single because it’s archetypal, condensing Melting Clock into a shade less than eight and a half minutes. It’s incredibly well-structured, built up from short phrases emphasised with distorted guitar yet despite its intricacy, the multiple instrumental layers are all clear and distinct and floating above is Emanuela’s gorgeous vocal melody. There are tempo and metrical changes and a fast organ solo but generally the lyrics express reflection, representing an inner journey.

I always look forward to meeting up with the band because we share an appreciation for many of the same things and conversation inevitably turns to music, books, and politics. Banalmente is a political song, played in a recognisable Melting Clock idiom attacking those who don’t question, preferring not to know or hold any responsibility for any atrocity carried out on the orders of others, along the lines of John Stuart Mill’s ‘Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends, than that good men should look on and do nothing.’ The references to ‘sand covered in blood where corpses are lying in the sun’ followed by ‘digging our trench to defend the high season party’ bring to mind the fate of refugees who have risked their lives crossing the Mediterranean and landed on Italian territory, a journey of desperation and hope that sadly too often ends in tragedy. There’s poignancy in Sandro’s particularly effective baritone during this piece.

Like a number of rock progressivo bands celebrating their Mediterranean roots before them, Melting Clock employ Middle Eastern scales and rhythm patterns on a couple of sections of Vetro which enhance the feeling of imprisonment and suffocation spelled out by the lyrics inspired by Yevgeny Zamyatin’s dystopian classic We. A song of different moods, the brief cinematic opening is followed by bright acoustic guitar which gives way to the eastern Mediterranean flavour and the start of the vocals. During the singing, which has a story-telling quality, Emanuela holds the melody while the instrumental backing is largely rhythmical (guest percussion is provided by Fabrizio Salvini) though there’s quite a lot going on with guitar and keyboards adding splashes of colour in the background. Following the last verse there’s a bright synthesizer line before a reprise of the acoustic guitar and eastern theme which precedes a piano flourish ending. I was present when this was first aired at a gig – it was one of the last compositions written for the album - where Sandro said he had been concerned about both the technical requirements of performing the piece (the verse is in 19/16 time) and its reception. I can report that not only did the music flow well but that it was really appreciated by the audience.

Strade Affollate was brought to the band by Simone. The acoustic guitar takes something of a lead but it’s obviously gone through the Melting Clock arranging machine. The understated piano that enters during the second verse and the Hammond-like organ arising during the middle eight enhance the melody as the layers build up, with restrained distorted guitar appearing in the third verse. This is a song of hope after the confinement of Vetro and partly because of its message and partly from the way it’s structured, it’s probably the most accessible track on the album, capable of bridging into more mainstream genres.


Melting Clock set list, L'Angelo Azzurro 9/3/2018
Melting Clock set list, L'Angelo Azzurro 9/3/2018




L’Occhio dello Sciacallo is another political song written by Sandro. Lasting less than three minutes and translating as The Jackal’s Eye it’s a short exhortation decrying corporate culture. The abrasive guitar introduction actually gives away to a pleasant melody where Emanuela and Sandro sing call-and response vocals. The drudgery is represented by drumming on the lower kit (though Francesco does use a limited amount of cymbal) and there’s an excellently executed cello solo provided by Stefano Cabrera.

The band is particularly proud of Antares, the first song they wrote for Melting Clock. It also happens to be a personal favourite of mine because it’s structured like a classic early Camel song, with amazing melodies and contrapuntal keyboard and guitar lines. This is another track that links to Genoa and the sea, so it’s not surprising that it begins with sea sound effects. Another composition that relies on building upon short phrases (c.f. Lunar Sea by Camel), it’s enhanced by Mellotron-like washes and contrapuntal synthesizer lines and some excellent twin lead guitar work, plus flute played by Fabrizio Salvini and cello played by Stefano Cabrera. Sandro shares some of the vocal duties but its Emanuela’s wordless vocals leading up to the dramatic denouement that steal the show, generating the physical signs of frisson, the pilomotor reflex and goosebumps.

Sono Luce has a lengthy instrumental introduction, arranged differently from the first time I heard it. This was the song where Alessandro’s playing first caught my attention, prompting me to seriously consider buying myself a 5-string bass. Even though there’s a Gilmour inspired guitar solo (it was written by Simone) the overall sound is less classic prog and more neo-prog with a delicacy to the piano and brightness to the guitars, giving a feeling of hope. The title (Made of Light) and lyrics are suggestive of a journey towards enlightenment but they still reference the sea and the shore.


The title track is something of a departure from the other melodic-symphonic tracks and it’s cleverly presaged by the short late-Floydian or early Marillion instrumental Quello che Rimane… It’s here that we get a better feel for individual influences in what is a notch or two up on the challenging stakes, both for the performers and the listener on the longest track on the album. Destinazioni is substantially heavier than anything else the band has done and begins with a nod to King Crimson and Dream Theater prog-metal while managing to stay adventurous throughout. Less reliant on stand-out melodies, it involves a lot of changes of style without breaks or segues, from fast and heavy to stately, from reflective to angular and aggressive, providing a metaphor for the cyclical nature of time. It conforms more to a classic prog template with accurate patches of analogue keyboards sitting well with the updated sound, exemplified by another fast organ run from Sandro but perhaps best illustrated with a few bars of guitar and keyboards that sound like Gabriel-era Genesis which appear toward the conclusion of the song, the most obvious incorporation of a classic prog influence.

Massimo Gasperini sanctioned the release of the double vinyl format with the medley Alla Corte del Re Cremisi taking up side four. These are pretty faithful recreations of the original King Crimson material, down to the Wetton bass trills on Starless and the role of David Cross covered brilliantly by Hanako on 21st Century Schizoid Man. Massimo has overseen some of the brightest names in contemporary Italian prog and hints at great things for Melting Clock, telling me that he enjoys seeing the band’s excitement about their own music. I also think they have a bright future, provided what is really a quite stunning debut gets attention beyond Genoa and Croydon.

What began as a chance encounter in 2017 has turned into a good friendship. I’ll be watching Melting Clock’s future journey very closely.


Destinazioni by Melting Clock, my album of 2019, is available from Black Widow Records BWR 224





By ProgBlog, Jan 25 2015 11:12PM

Edgar Froese, the founder member of Tangerine Dream died unexpectedly last week from a pulmonary embolism at the age of 70.

Froese was born in 1944 in a region of East Prussia (now the Russian city of Sovetsk) and settled in West Berlin where he went on to study art and sculpture in the mid-60s. He formed a Beat group called The Ones who toured widely playing songs such as soul classic In the Midnight Hour. It was during this time that he visited Salvador Dali at his villa in Cadaqués where he was inspired to reject the Anglo-American confines of popular music. On his return to Berlin, he dropped into the newly founded Zodiak Arts Lab and adopted the moniker Tangerine Dream. The first TD album Electronic Meditation, made with drummer Klaus Schulze, unconventional musician Conrad Schnitzler (who played dried peas, typewriter and manipulated taped sounds), organist Jimmy Jackson and flautist Thomas Keyserling, was not really ‘electronic’ but treated conventional instruments.

Their third release, Zeit, a double album from 1972, is a bleak, minimalist masterpiece from the rather dramatic cello quartet opening through to the very end. Based on the philosophy that time is motionless and only exists in our own minds, the shifting sounds, overlain and treated, make me imagine that I’m lost and alone in deep space. There’s a hint of strummed guitar in part 3 (Origin of Supernatural Probabilities) but, apart from the cellos, that’s the only discernible instrument; Zeit is also notable for being the first TD album that brought together seminal line-up of Froese, Christopher Franke and Peter Baumann.

DJ John Peel and Richard Branson were primarily responsible for the popularity of TD in the UK after Peel named Atem (1973) his album of the year and, following their signing to the fledgling Virgin Records, Phaedra (1974) reached no 15 in the charts despite only selling a couple of thousand copies in their native Germany. Despite Phaedra being my introduction to TD (thanks to school friend Alan Lee) I prefer Rubycon (1975) and, though I haven't heard Ricochet for nearly 40 years, I think I also prefer that to Phaedra.

Some commentators think that the term ‘progressive’ should not be applied to Zeit, partly on philosophical grounds – how can you progress if time doesn’t really exist? – but the output of the Virgin years is a maturing of the Kosmische sound that fully embraces the spirit of prog where the sequencer comes to the fore. Whereas Zeit with its subtle sonic shifts could be called ambient in the same way that Fripp and Eno’s No Pussyfooting and Evening Star are ambient, the subsequent TD releases are something more. I’m struggling to find a suitable term but I guess ‘atmospheric’ will do. Though inherently rhythmical, sequencers weren’t used to provide rhythm; their pulses weave in and out of the sonic washes like snapshots of important moments in time, mayfly fragments in the history of the universe.

The band may not have been virtuoso but that’s why they didn’t emulate British prog; they became virtuosos of technology and Chris Franke applied the influence of the minimalists and modern composer György Ligeti. Their use of haunting Mellotron flute is classic but they also used the instrument to great effect on Mysterious Semblance at the Strand of Nightmares from Phaedra to emulate staccato violin, something that contradicts the 'ambient' tag. In fact, their use of Mellotron is quite different from that of the symphonic prog bands, something I’d ascribe to the sonic territory that they inhabited. I’m one of those people who believe that the mid-70s TD were a defining sound of prog and rushed out to buy Rubycon when it was released. I loved the cover of Phaedra more than Rubycon, but the inside gatefold of the latter was brilliant, in gorgeous chocolate colours, with the cameo of Monique Froese. TD cover artwork was pretty special and as immersive as the music itself, another reason to define them as classic prog. Rubycon was an album that was fantastic for listening to in the dark, through headphones, a pure escapist experience whether you were exploring outer or inner space.

The next studio release, Stratosfear, makes too many concessions towards mainstream rock for my liking. Why on earth did Froese use a harmonica? Friend and Electronica aficionado Neil Jellis opines that Stratosfear is much more polished than their live material of that year or even 1977’s Encore. I think that the studio material is all very well produced but I’m not particularly au fait with the live material and interpret Neil’s comment not as a criticism as such, rather an indication that TD were becoming more industry-friendly. I imagine it was difficult to find new things to write in the idiom that they’d created. We both agree that Song of the Whale (from Underwater Sunlight) is their last great track and Neil points out that Chris Franke left the band one studio album later and believes there is a direct correlation between the (declining) quality of TD material and Franke's exit. He says there are long-standing rumours that Franke is sitting on a pile of live recordings from the 1970s and 80s. It may be that following the death of Froese there is a chance that these recordings may now see the light of day as the relationship between Froese and Franke was pretty poor following the latter’s departure from the band.

I was somewhat surprised to find that George Wells, one of my brothers-in-law, was a TD fan because much of his record collection was made up of Neil Diamond records! He’d been to see TD play live but as I only met my future wife in 1984 I’m not sure if he was present at the concert at the Fairfield Halls in Croydon (23/10/1975) where much of Ricochet was recorded. I didn’t mind buying him a couple of TD albums as birthday presents in the mid-late 80s before the disappearance of vinyl but I would have been embarrassed if I’d had to hand over money in a record shop for anything else he liked!




Edgar Willmar Froese b. 6 June 1944 d. 20 January 2015



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