Capricorni Pneumatici – The Commission

It was exactly 40 years ago that Capricorni Pneumatici first began their experiments in what could genuinely be described as sonic rituals. This, at the same time, as ‘Crocodile Dundee’ wowed cinema-goers, and pop connoisseurs flocked to Woolworth’s for Mr Mister‘s latest hit. There was serious talk about Rolling Stones splitting up. Appropriately given life at The Cave, in Italy, Capricorni Pneumatici has resolutely stuck to the brief over four decades – unsettle; challenge; crush; create sparks. ‘The Commission’ takes us back to some of those very first recordings – of course, they sound just as magical, ancient and futuristic as they ever did. Whatever you want to call this corner of the musical spectrum – dark ambient; monkcore; nunstep; cowlwave – there’s no doubting that it is consistently effective. Track 1, ‘UVDL’, has a gentle shake of bells enveloped by clouds of gloomy electronics, metallic scraping and bongs, and you’re sent to that feeling you have when you’re on a long train ride, where leaning your tired head against the window allows you to feel the vibrations and sink towards a wonderfully satisfying slumber, only for it to be interrupted by a neutron bomb of acid reflux. Here, the jarring bitterness comes from some apologetic bird song being drowned out by some horribly troubling chanting, what sounds like a hippo’s head being sawn off, and something stirring in the cellar. I think a lot of people miss that this IS music. It’s not thrown together randomly, designed as a novelty or wallpaper. They are carving the air with the dexterity of master butchers, creating sounds and combinations that have never been heard by human ears before. There should be UNESCO protection of these things. ‘Polizei’ harks back to a visual piece created in 2020. The constant but oddly soothing battering of the small hammer against the copper of your skull abates after about 7 of the 14 minutes, though it’s only overtaken by someone scraping the inside of your cranium with a metal coat hanger, so horses for courses. All of which may lead you to think that this is all rather formulaic – bastardised lullabies with a plot twist. But even track 3, ‘Securite’, subverts this, throwing you into a whirlpool of a riot (actually field recordings of the Paris riots of December 2020), elbows and teeth everywhere, breached by a police siren and chained sanctuary. There’s never really any respite. Whether it’s the breath of mosquitoes suddenly amplified to the level of a human voice, the ambient sounds of rattled grills or simply the torture of your own thoughts, you’re always asked to question if we have ever truly experienced silence. Speaking of field recordings, can you imagine anything more grim than the sounds of the London Tube being orchestrated for ritualistic gatherings? Of course it works. What could reflect the mindless gathering of spellbound goons more than pay-hungry suits crammed into a tin? There’s a feeling of forever – the idea of ‘stop’ almost taunting you, the endless rush of echoed screeching, whistles and murmurs like incantations from a cursed book with endless pages. ‘The Commission’ concludes with ‘kk’, the nearest track we have to a ‘standard’ ritual, filled with groans, cybernetic yawns of woe and the constant hum of the Earth turning in the blackness. The album is launched alongside an exhibition at London cARTel Gallery, curated by artist Tomislav Török Terek.

Daz Lawrence (Weird Bones) 19/06/2026

  Capricorni Pneumatici waren zuletzt mit “Variants“ bei Alma De Nieto und mit der Wiederveröffentlichung von “Vaia, Or The Four Zoas“ bei Eighth Tower Records. Nun gedenken sie mit The Commission (DNN 048 C) der Sessions, bei denen im Juni 1986 der Stoff von “CP1“ & “Al-Azif“ entstand. Die Stimme bei ‘U. vd L.‘ und ‘K.K.‘, zu Stoff, der teils noch von dieser Ur-Session herrührt, ist die von Peter Pestalozza, dem Mitbegründer von Supporti Fonografici, anno 1988. Eine Grille grillt, Metall funkelt windspielerisch, Vögel zwitschern in windbefauchtem, lo-fi-bedröhntem Irgendwo. Und Pestalozza, der sieben Jahre danach gestorben ist, singt Zeilen von Baudelaire, schüttelnd wird etwas gesiebt, im Hintergrund fallen vage Schläge. Fragt mich nicht, wie das mit der Präsidentin der Europäischen Kommission zusammengeht. Versionen der Soundtracks zu ihren Videos ‘Polizei‘ und ‘Securitè’ (beide 2020) setzen das Ton in Ton fort. Mit nur tupfendem Tamtam in weiter nur vagem Ambiente, dem aus undichten Stellen Luft entströmt zu eintöniger Percussion. Bzw. mit zu einem dumpf ‘rudernden’ Kollern eingedicktem Lärm der Demo gegen das fragwürdige, mittlerweile beschlossene Sicherheitsgesetz am 5.12.2020 in Paris. ‘London‘ bringt Sounds aus der Londoner U-Bahn und mehr dröhnende Unruhe als die mundtot gemachte Demo. Mit Pestalozza schließt Capricorni Pneumatici die Klammer, indem der zu Dröhnspuren raunt und kehlig singt. Es kommt etwas mystisch Rituellem ziemlich nahe.

Rigobert Dittmann (Bad Alchemy 135)