DELREI: Curtarock Festival (Live in Curtarolo, 07/26/2024) (Digital)

From Chain DLK Somewhere between a Sergio Leone dream sequence and a David Lynch fever dream, DELREI conjures a ghostly Western landscape where spaghetti guitars shimmer under neon moons, dusty highways stretch into oblivion, and every note sounds like it’s been sunbaked and wind-worn in the middle of nowhere. With Curtarock Festival, Italian guitarist and sonic gunslinger Alessandro Mercanzin takes his cinematic “Spaghetti Western noir” sound from the sterile solitude of the studio to the raw, whiskey-soaked energy of the stage, flanked by Giovanni Beghetto on drums and Davide Dalla Pria on bass. This was DELREI’s first-ever live performance, but you wouldn’t guess it – each track carries a swagger that suggests the band has been riding together for years, trading riffs like outlaws exchanging glances before a showdown. Opening with “Solitario”, the band immediately plunges us into a widescreen desert mirage, where reverbed guitars tremble like distant mirages and rolling percussion mimics the sound of boots crunching on sand. The following “Into the Wasteland” ramps up the post-apocalyptic dust storm, a Morricone-esque gallop through desolation, complete with sun-scorched melodies that feel like a lost frontier ballad. Then there’s “Nowhere to Ride”, a track that kicks up the dust even higher – its lean, mean energy almost punkish in its brevity and directness. But DELREI is never just about speed; “Ensenada” slows things down, a late-night cantina tune where ghosts drink mezcal and memories dissolve into cigarette smoke. It’s as if Calexico and Angelo Badalamenti decided to score a film where Clint Eastwood meets the ghost of Roy Orbison. Throughout the album, tracks like “Far from Here” and “Lonely Night” drip with solitude, their melodies painted in shades of amber and rust, while “Mysterious Traveler” takes us on a twilight journey where the horizon keeps slipping away, like a mirage that refuses to be caught. And then, there’s “Get Lost Blues” – a perfect closing number that doesn’t end so much as it fades into the desert wind, a reminder that every Western hero eventually rides off into the sunset, never quite reaching where they were going. What makes Curtarock Festival truly special is its unvarnished authenticity. There’s no studio gloss here – just real instruments, real sweat, and real energy. As Mercanzin himself put it, “playing live is always a rock’n’roll experience and a proof of authenticity”. And he’s right. These songs don’t just breathe outside the confines of a studio – they kick up dirt, roll their sleeves up, and hit the open road. If you love Morricone twang, Lynchian noir, the shadowy highways of Twin Peaks, and the timeless ache of a desert horizon, Curtarock Festival is your ticket to a world where rock meets Western, where every note tells a story, and where getting lost is part of the journey. Best played while driving aimlessly at sunset, with the windows down and the ghosts of old Westerns riding shotgun. -Vito Camarretta