Sound is an element unlike any other in this world, and when it’s under the control of an artist like Federico Balducci, it can be manipulated into anything. If you listen closely to the chilling textures that are sourced directly from the ebbing of synths in “Poème Sans Titre XXVI,” you’ll find that there is as much of a yearning for release here as there is in the seventh, twenty-first and third movements of the composition, all of which are found on The World Forgetting, by the World Forgot…. In this album, there aren’t any vocals, spoken lyrics nor seemingly any presence of human life. There are only bassline beats shrouded in darkness, elixirs comprised of white fuzz and brown noise designed to hypnotize without any assistance from the volume knob, and the feeling that we’re listening to one of the year’s most intriguing eclectic works.
None of the ‘movements’ in The World Forgetting, by the World Forgot… are much longer than a minute or two – some of my favorites like “IX” and “XXII” don’t last much over sixty seconds – but even at their most cosmetically simplistic, there isn’t a single track on this record that doesn’t feature a lot of artistic substance. The isolationist feel that haunts us in “XXIV,” “XI” and “VII” never finds any solace, despite being met with conflicting passages in the opening cut, “XVIII” and the grizzly “XXV,” instead breeding an increasingly menacing vibe as we go through the album whether on shuffle or straight through.
Balducci’s moodiness in The World Forgetting, by the World Forgot… manifests itself in a couple of pretty specific moments; namely movements “XVI,” “XIX” and the translucent “X” (which feels thoroughly eviscerating compared to the supple framing of the other two). In these tracks, we’re pushed off one cliff only to fall right onto another, the physicality of the instrumentation compensating for whatever lack of clarity might have been achieved through linguistics. From my own perspective, I prefer the ambient stylization Federico Balducci ultimately utilizes in this album, and though it doesn’t produce the atmospheric sound I normally look for in this kind of music, it’s a provocative set regardless. His heart was in this as much as his head was, and that’s obvious even from a distance.
Whether it’s the nauseating spin of “V,” frailty of “XVIII,” the scathing dirge that is “VI” or the downright sonic virtuosity of “II,” I find it quite difficult to believe any listener will take a step away from The World Forgetting, by the World Forgot… having not been at least somewhat affected by the material it has to offer. Federico Balducci once again proves himself to be a master of melodic discordance here, challenging the pedigree of the biggest players in the EU and North America with his own twisted brand of hybridity. It’s a style I’ve come to appreciate quite a bit in the last couple of years, and if you haven’t already done so, I’d recommend taking in what he’s just finished up in this unforgettable addition to his discography.