Naga
Inanimate
(Everlasting Spew Records)
Italy trio Naga lays out the sort of doom and trance foundation you dream of: long and punk, rigid and dark, and smoky in the underground with cheap beer and eternal mist. There’s realness to these guys and a very defined angle: they play like their life depends on it, and this is what makes a band great.
Inanimate is the band’s second EP, and third release overall counting 2014’s full-length behemoth, Hen. Inanimate was originally released on vinyl only, in July of 2016, but was obviously so dreamy and fourth dimensional it demanded some greater distribution. So it’s now available on CD through Everlasting Spew Records. And that’s good for all of us who dig the shadows, free from and sludgy riffs, and mystical reverence.
Five songs make up Inanimate and they create some vast space. As a trio, Naga has the opportunity to make music like jazz: every reverberating depth heavy and smart, every nuance complete and emotional. There’s melody and sharpness woven through each sculptural composition, every attribute churning orbital and lean. “Hyele” is a mystery through time. The song bends and eclipses several times; Emanuele Schember’s bass work is deep and wondrous, dancing with guitarist Lorenzo De Stefano’s interlocking plateau. “Loner” is pure fury, as punk and driving as it is ascending.
Naga deposits songs that feel like the earth and the moon. They stretch out like fusionists, never insulting their compositions with drivel or irony. This is straight darkness, absolute truth: the kind of band that goes down like crisp winter ale and Frank Stella’s 1967 epic Black Series I. What I like most about Naga is their intention. The way drummer Dario Graziano grooves reminds me of the purity of playing forceful music: stuff that makes you fee like you just woke up. Riffs and jaunts like a new era: the first time you ever got stoned and drove endlessly through the Arizona desert at night. It’s real music.
