Much like how the human experience is a series of patterns chronologically stacked on top of each other, music layers different frequencies, moods, and ideas together to create an abstract representation of the joy, suffering, and indifference of living. One comprehensive investigation into the more sentimentally dark and moody side of life is Girl On The Shore, an album of softly-lit experimental music by Italian two-piece, Torre di Fine.
From what they call "a decaying suburban area of north-east Italy", Torre di Fine operate on the precarious intersection of alternative and avant-garde musical styles. The pair mysteriously omit their given names in promotional material and are known simply as M.Cella and M.Trevisan. This stylization is also extended to musical collaborators and the cover photographer, whose identities have been obscured by initialisms. This elusiveness suits the duo's music, the mountainous and densely layered textures of which have a brutal profundity as it descends with ram-head enthusiasm into the netherworld.
Bookended by two colossal pieces, "Vanta", which moves from harsh drones to gentle neoclassical arrangements led by electric guitar, and "Sorrow", which mirrors its title with stony-faced instrumental post-rock before falling to sparse and lethargic pockets of calm which in turn descend to the hottest depths of hell via brutal techno noise and industrial horror, this debut-album is as highly stylistic as it is wonderfully puzzling.
Indeed, there is horror in the group's emphatically dark music, but there is also romance by way of concealed pop expressions. These brighter moments are hidden within layers of uncompromising experimentalism, and are the musical equivalent of the toy in a Kinder surprise. For example, "Ammonia" allows the cello from collaborator F.R. Lusini to mournfully stretch out with investigational liberty to the midway point of the track, where lyrics about kissing and interpersonal relationships are atonally sung and manipulated with delay and distortion. Likewise, the unrelenting anxiety of "Attraction" buries pretty and emotive pop singing underneath waves of oscillating distortion and botched tones, and "Kenopsia", with its simple guitar and vocals combination, offers an intimate moment on an album that often ruminates on the distant; the exploration of cold and detached states of being.
Elsewhere, "Coercion" features a collaboration with fellow Ghost City Collective member Ankubu and is perhaps the sharpest track on the collection. Its piano, noise, and vocals are meticulously arranged. The gentle percussion of "N02A" brings a sense of movement to the otherwise statically pensive music, which becomes corrupted with screams and feedback. The desert-like expanse of "Mascara," a largely instrumental track that forgoes melody or structure in favor of wildly loose drone music, is colored with sporadic bass strings slaps and spluttering effects.
Despite being considerably experimental, Girl On The Shore is surprisingly accessible; its ugliness and ferocity break down the walls between the artist and the listener to expose the patterns of light and color on the other side of darkness.
★★★★