There is no conundrum like an Italian conundrum. I mean that in the best possible way, being 1) married to an Italian, which means I’m married to her entire family, and 2) having a maybe not entirely coincidental love of Italian cinema, particularly the giallo era of thrillers from the likes of Mario Bava, Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci and others. Does any of that go to any lengths to explain Segreti Nel Nero is the expanded 2026 version of the 2012 self-titled album by L’Ombra Della Sera, a mysterious Italian band who in fact are simply an alter ego of Italian retro-progressive band La Maschera di Cera, who have a habit of making great things out of other people’s things in a beautiful way, like their musical sequel to Le Orme’s 1973 classic Felona e Sorona. Here they pay homage to the eerie thriller, sci-fi, and horror themes that permeated their childhood via state television in the 1970s and resurrect not only the music, but the feeling they evoked, creating something new once again.
Admit it: beats what the vast majority of us do with our childhoods.
I don’t know if this is essential listening, but it’s an album that grows with the learning. I discovered a similar lesson earlier this year in my album discussion group about Ellen Pullman’s The Long String Instrument. That’s an incredible story for another time; the parallel here is how the guys in La Maschera di Cera not only arranged and worked out all these themes but also tracked down and used period instruments and, for the sprawling centerpiece “Le Venti giornate di Torino,” turned to their own arrangement of a lost television show that never aired but left behind scraps of an evocative score.
The above may imply listening to Segreti Nel Nero is an exercise, something to be endured. Nothing could be further from the truth: there’s an immediate accessibility in the bombast of synthesizers against the funky rock beat in “Gamma” or the absolutely dance-hall rave up that opens “La traccia verde.” Albums like this are perfectly sprinkled into playlists and parties, at least in my household. Your mileage may vary, but I hear a rich history, imagined or otherwise, in these interpretations.
Leave a Reply