Soft And Hard by Frank Pirton: A Wild Ride Through Funk, Soul, and Cinematic Vibes
Alright, buckle up. Let’s dive into Soft And Hard, the Italian funk/soul gem from Frank Pirton that slaps harder than a 70s cop show punchline. Released on Rodi Records, this album is like stepping into an alternate universe where Quentin Tarantino soundtracks were made in Venice instead of Hollywood. It’s got drama, groove, and enough brass to make your speakers sweat.
First off, let’s talk about "Theme Of Francesca." This track hits you right outta the gate with its cinematic flair—like someone took a spaghetti western and dipped it in disco glitter. The piano work by Euros Ferrary? Insane. Absolute wizardry. You can practically see the opening credits rolling as Francesca struts down a cobblestone street wearing oversized sunglasses and holding a cigarette holder she doesn’t even smoke. Bob Roscato’s trumpet solo? Chef’s kiss. It’s one of those tracks that sticks in your head for days, not because it’s catchy but because it feels like it owns your brain now.
Then there’s "Funky Trumpets," which is exactly what it says on the tin—but better. Imagine James Brown decided to collaborate with Ennio Morricone after binge-watching Shaft. That’s this song. Roscato goes ham here, blowing notes so sharp they might cut you if you stand too close. Ezy Minus’ arrangement keeps things tight, layering horns over a bassline so thick it could double as asphalt. This isn’t just music; it’s a vibe machine set to “cool badass” mode.
Now, sure, some tracks lean more lounge lizard than dancefloor destroyer ("Flute In Love" has vibes so smooth they almost put me to sleep), but when Pirton nails it, he nails it. And yeah, I get why Maripal wrote most of the tunes—they’ve got that stage-and-screen magic. But Gonella sneaking in on “Barocco In Venice”? Genius move. It adds this weird baroque twist that makes you go, “Wait…is this jazz or opera?” Doesn’t matter. It works.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Soft And Hard feels less like hearing an album and more like stumbling through someone’s fever dream of Italy in the '70s. There’s something raw and unpolished about it, like Pirton didn’t care about perfection—he cared about making you feel something. Anger, joy, confusion—it’s all fair game.
So, final verdict? If you’re looking for background music while folding laundry, skip this. But if you want an album that punches you in the face and then serenades you with a saxophone, grab Soft And Hard. Just don’t blame me when your neighbors start complaining about the trumpet solos at 3 AM.
Oh, and one last thing—how does Gonella only write one track?! That dude needs his own album ASAP.
