Bocca D’ombra' from the Italian duo Rosso Polare aka Cesare Lopopolo and Anna Vezzosi is built on a series of whispers and breaths, panting and rustling.

Pastoral field recordings into dazed porchside bloooz and experimental kickdrum electronics with crickets as a rhythm section and swirling brass, sort of like a heavily screwed version of Virginia Astley's 'From Gardens Where We Feel Secure'. A closeness sometimes verging on claustrophobia is fissured with the sounds of crackling fireworks, birdsong, church bells, muffled cries from a children’s playground, like shafts of faraway light, or an insurgent subconscious. A kind of musical animism — influenced by ecological writers like Timothy Morton and Gregory Bateson — with a heavy heart it haunts the porous limits of human and natural realms. Improvisations with traditional instruments like electric and acoustic guitars, monophonic synths, horns or flutes meet natural noise-making tools like branches, nuts, and rocks. Heady, intoxicating, highly personal, thought-provoking music from Milan.