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π—–π—Όπ—»π—»π—Όπ—Ήπ—Ήπ˜†β€™π˜€ 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 - this week: Nite Rite n’ .2 - Alberto Parmegiani, Soul Hunters

Welcome all to π—–π—Όπ—»π—»π—Όπ—Ήπ—Ήπ˜†β€™π˜€ 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly - an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of π™‰π™šπ™¬ π˜Όπ™§π™©π™žπ™¨π™© π™Žπ™₯π™€π™©π™‘π™žπ™œπ™π™© playlists.


π™‰π™žπ™©π™š π™π™žπ™©π™š 𝙣’ .2 - π˜Όπ™‘π™—π™šπ™§π™©π™€ π™‹π™–π™§π™’π™šπ™œπ™žπ™–π™£π™ž, π™Žπ™€π™ͺ𝙑 𝙃π™ͺπ™£π™©π™šπ™§π™¨


Charles shows good sportsmanship.


A couple of days ago, there was a game of football. Or soccer, if you prefer. One team wearing white, the other, blue. I rooted for white. Sometimes, things just don’t go to plan. They did however for the blues. I am not a football fan, but this was one of the few times when an Englishman is allowed to be patriotic. It is seen as okay. The way to be. The thing to do. The hopes were high, but eventually, after much sweaty tension, the feeling was low. A big shame. But someone has to win, and someone has to, well, come second. It has always been the way. 22 men fought like brave soldiers; courageous yet civil and respectful. My only real CONCERN about England coming in β€˜second place’, was the possible aftermath. English football fans have something of a reputation for acting, shall we say, a little less gentlemanly than they maybe should. Which is why I am of the opinion that β€œif you can’t beat β€˜em, join em’”. Not the fans, but the winners. Let’s all come together and celebrate a joyous occasion. Not as joyous as one would have hoped, of course, but let’s simply take part in the festivities and good vibes, rather than turning the good vibes to bad. Let us enjoy and revel in the good times we’ve had over the weeks, and just understand that the result of a game of football must not be taken as a personal attack, but simply an outcome that had to go either way.

I am English. I am also a leedle beed Italian. Although I feel and act utterly English, I am aware of the Italian in my blood. My language extends to just a few pasta dishes with a perfect accent, but I do find myself gesturing with my hands quite a bit - not in the way the English might… I also see beauty in the simplest of things, and feel the highs and lows of emotion in a sensitive manner. I rise to the sky as easily as plummeting to the depths of the earth. I will now do a somewhat daring thing. May I please welcome Alberto Parmegiani - no cheesy jokes, please - and his all-Italian band, Soul Hunters, with their song, Nite Rite n’ .2.


A sensationally talented bunch of musicians. Their effortless way of playing makes it seem just so easy-Pisa. Their sound is a sort of soulful acid-jazz with a hell of a lot of funk. The drummer (Fabio Accardi - no jumper/sweater jokes) is tighter than a stiff upper lip. But then again, so is the whole band. The brass and wind section, consisting of Francesco Lomangino, Giuseppe Todisco and Antonio Fallacara, makes a pad that flows like a canoe on its inevitable course downstream. Our bassist, Gianluca Aceto, is in perfect synchronisation with Fabio to reinforce the foundations of the piece. Soon enough, we are joined by Paola Arcieri for the most creamy of vocals, complete with precision, ease and smiles; shoulders drooped but for the occasional upward stab as she gets into the groove. The whole piece is speckled with subtle lush harmonies, bringing up the energy through verses. Alberto himself plays more of a conductor role in this song - taken from their album, Soul Hunters - but takes a backseat as the band’s guitarist, until little more than a minute before the song’s close, where he makes a subtle yet vital entrance for a neat jazz guitar solo. It is more like an introduction for Lomangino’s forthcoming saxophone solo that rips in like a pain we’re not supposed to enjoy. Masochism all round! I have not mentioned Pasquale Strizzi and Francesco Schepisi, who complete and bond the band’s parts with the coolest authentic electric organs. It’s Rhodes o’clock!


This album of theirs conjures much of the deepest soul to found, and the funkiest funk since Jamiroquai. It is a late night sound. It is jazzy, but utterly accessible. There is sexiness and darkness. Its sex is more born from the seedy 70s, and its darkness takes on the nastier side of the 90s. Yet it is all so clean and superbly mixed. This darker view is through feel, space and choice of chords and instrumentation. Their seamless sound is brought together by editor, Antonio Martino and sound engineer, Tullio Ciriello, who together craft, sand, smooth and polish the collective to perfection. This is one large, professional setup, where much like the Italian football team, we end up with more than the sum of its parts.


Respectfully, I raise a glass of Montepulciano to Italy and its people. I invite you all to do the same. It’s hardly a penalty.


Listen to π™‰π™žπ™©π™š π™π™žπ™©π™š 𝙣’ .2 on the π—–π—Όπ—»π—»π—Όπ—Ήπ—Ήπ˜†β€™π˜€ 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Spotify playlist HERE!

Listen to π™‰π™žπ™©π™š π™π™žπ™©π™š 𝙣’ .2 on the π—–π—Όπ—»π—»π—Όπ—Ήπ—Ήπ˜†β€™π˜€ 𝗖𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗿 Apple Music playlist HERE!


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