La Corazzata Potëmkin feels like the moment I Sincopatici stop being "a group with an intriguing concept" and become a band with a fully realized voice. Their second soundtrack project doesn't just accompany Sergei Eisenstein's film — it wrestles with it, reshapes it, and ultimately stands beside it as a work with its own pulse and its own sense of danger. The quartet's blend of piano, violin, fretless bass, and modern percussion creates a chamber‑rock sound that recalls the dramatic tension of Univers Zero, the melodic austerity of Art Zoyd, and the more orchestral side of Goblin—but without mimicking any of them. There's also a clear thread back to the Italian RPI tradition, especially the atmospheric storytelling of Banco del Mutuo Soccorso. The lineup shift brings a noticeable change in texture. Francesca Badalini's piano remains the gravitational center, but her guitar work adds a grit that wasn't as forward on their debut. Silvia Maffeis' violin is the revelation here — sharp, lyrical, and capable of turning a scene on its axis with a single sustained note. Andrea Grumelli's bass moves with a storyteller's instinct, and Teo Ravelli's drums and electronics give the music a modern volatility, as if the film's century-old images are being jolted awake. The result is a sound that feels orchestral without ever losing the intimacy of four musicians listening hard to one another. There's classical lineage in the writing, but the attitude — the way the rhythms surge and the harmonies twist — owes as much to the more dramatic corners of vintage prog as it does to chamber music. The album's pacing—alternating between taut rhythmic passages and brooding, textural interludes—places it in the same conceptual space as Present's Triskaidekaphobia, Goblin's Suspiria, and the more cinematic moments of Le Orme's Felona E Sorona. Yet the band's use of violin as a primary melodic driver gives it a distinct identity, closer to the modern chamber‑prog of Aranis or Five-Storey Ensemble. Each track feels like a self‑contained scene: the tension of Uomini E Vermi, the sweeping escalation of Dramma Sul Ponte, and the stark emotional weight of La Scalinata Di Odessa. The music stands on its own even without the film, which is the real test for projects like this. What makes the album compelling is its refusal to fall into the usual traps of "new music for old films." There's no winking nostalgia, no over-literal musical mimicry. Instead, the band treats the film as a living thing — flawed, powerful, historically loaded — and responds with music that's equally alive. The score stands on its own, yet it's easy to imagine it breathing new energy into the film's frames. La Corazzata Potëmkin is a bold, tightly woven work that shows I Sincopatici growing into something formidable. It's dramatic without excess, modern without coldness, and rooted in tradition without being beholden to it. A compelling second chapter for a band carving out a unique artistic niche. **** David Carswell Where to buy? |
