Album Review: Kairòs by Cinque Uomini sulla Cassa del Morto
Released in 2019, Kairòs is an evocative journey through the raw and untamed landscapes of indie rock and folk rock. Hailing from Italy, Cinque Uomini sulla Cassa del Morto delivers a project that feels deeply personal yet universally resonant. The album, self-released under the Not On Label banner, is a testament to artistic independence, with Edoardo Robert Elliot wearing multiple hats as producer, mixer, and mastering engineer. Cosimo Miorelli’s artwork ties it all together, giving the record a visual identity as striking as its sound.
At first glance, the tracklist might seem repetitive due to some titles appearing twice (like "Fino A Essere Nulla" and "Come Fossi Il Tuo Futuro"), but this isn’t laziness—it’s intentional. These reprises act like echoes, reminding listeners how themes can shift depending on context or mood. It’s clever stuff, even if it trips you up at first.
Two tracks stand out for me: “Il Profumo Di Casa” and “I Giorni Del Sole.” The former hits hard because it captures something ineffable about belonging—or maybe longing. Its melody lingers, simple yet haunting, while the lyrics evoke images of home not just as a place, but as a feeling. You don’t need to speak Italian fluently to get it; the emotion carries across. Meanwhile, “I Giorni Del Sole” feels like sunlight breaking through clouds after days of rain. It builds slowly, layering guitars and vocals until it bursts into this cathartic release. I found myself humming it hours later without realizing it. That’s the mark of good songwriting—it sticks to your bones.
The production deserves credit too. Edoardo Robert Elliot has done wonders here, balancing grit with clarity. There’s no over-polishing, which suits the band’s aesthetic perfectly. And kudos to Francesco Blasig for his work behind the mic during recording sessions—it adds warmth to the overall mix.
What struck me most about Kairòs was its refusal to conform. This isn’t music made for playlists or TikTok trends. Instead, it invites you to sit down, listen closely, and let it unfold. Sure, there are moments where things feel uneven, but that’s part of the charm. It’s human. Imperfect. Real.
In a world obsessed with instant gratification, Kairòs reminds us that timing matters. After all, “kairòs” roughly translates to “the right moment.” Listening to this album felt like catching lightning in a bottle—the kind of experience you stumble upon when you least expect it. Oddly enough, my cat seemed mesmerized by it too. Go figure.
