With "I Mistici dell'Occidente", Baustelle are still themselves, but what a committed and difficult album they have made for us. They are still that alternative band with an irresistible intellectual charm, delighting us with easy yet at the same time disturbing melodies, almost unsettling and cloying. With the single "Gli Spietati" they present us once again with that conceptual aspect of the Western climate (which will contaminate the whole album) deliciously presented in the hidden track "Spaghetti Western" from the previous album. Again, here is a title and atmosphere almost cinematic, again a melody as beautiful as it is sad, effective choruses, and a style still reminiscent of the times of "Amen." It is a beautiful song about a ruthless love that comes to an end, perhaps necessary; the music with those violins and trumpets over the seductive voice of Rachele and Francesco is strong, emotional, and reassuring: but at the same time, it is sad! And just like "Charlie" introduced us to a new Baustelle album full of interesting facets; it happens again with the mystics, with this single "Gli Spietati", which never wants to leave your mind. And listening to it, finding oneself – whether by coincidence or self-suggestion – in the most suitable phase to conceive that bittersweet taste of the words, combined with this relentless melody because it is sad, relentless because it is true, will make you fall in love with the album even before buying it. The video clip for "Gli Spietati" is a very attentive graphic work: director Daniele Perisca uses colors, filters, and special camera lenses to recreate a context à la Andy Warhol (well recreated by an actress) and his factory. If with "Spaghetti Western" in "Amen," Morricone, Volontè, and all the protagonists of the genre were paralleled to a western (or an Italian) at the end of their tether; the videoclip, in recovering this style – so to speak: In Cinecittà – wants to engage in social issues: advertising, commodification, and industrial ruthlessness, represented (ironically) in Baustelle Detergents and Peeled Tomatoes, to combat bullying (or bloodstains) and today's depression respectively.
The paradox is that despite the melodic conception still presenting as successful as in that symphonic change of "Amen" (winner of the Tenco award) compared to previous albums; at the same time, the Baustelle return to the almost gloomy tones when they sang songs about adolescents, we still have those debut melodies, sad and disturbing, yet endowed with a delicious acoustic charm and evocative appeal. Precisely because of this, the album is not at all homogeneous: the 12 (13 if we're picky) tracks are very different from each other. There are the original Baustelle, the modern ones, and in a sense the newer, more experimental ones: therefore, rock pieces alternate with others that are more classic and calm in a rather non-linear pattern. But all this is not negative at all; on the contrary, it makes one feel how this band has not decided to throw itself towards easy consensus, but is still in search of artistic improvement and perfection. But in a sense, it's exactly like this: there is strong rock; but at the same time, more choral atmospheres; and still not coherently some very gentle and almost classically melodic pieces, like the delightful piano ballad, very poignant and particular, "il Sottoscritto" in which Bianconi does not give up on pessimism, with a sense of defeat and emotional forgiveness that seems never to arrive, and "l’ultima notte felice del mondo". That the general package of this album wants to reach higher cultural levels is apparent from the beautiful artwork which at first glance seems a parody of Sgt. Pepper's but is instead more inspired by Tropicalia by the Os Mutantes. With that aspect, akin to the "bones of cuttlefish," with that charm of a nineteenth-century family portrait, of sects and preachings (probably those of the jurisdictional church of David Lazzaretti well present in the black and white painting). The same goes for the lyrics, as usual, imperceptible meanings at the first listens, but gradually easily understandable and decipherable: mysticism (beyond material and passions, to disdain – in the sense of depriving of a price – reality), religiosity (From St. Francis to the poems of Jacopone da Todi), the passing of time (whose mark remains), effort and search, but also death. And many other things as beautiful as they are suffering.
"L’indaco" is the most poetic track, introduced by a delightful motif of delicate and very emotional chords that introduce the voices of Rachele and Francesco (as always perfect together) “Don't worry anymore, what need is there, when the swallows leave, let them go…”; it develops on poetic contexts and challenging melodies, with cadenced tones that make it almost a melodic painting that praises life and encourages the search for happiness; strangely, therefore, a piece that sad, is actually quite the opposite: “don’t throw yourself down because in the end there’s a blue that makes you cry, beyond the clouds” In “S.Francesco,” the adolescent Rosalpina finds no sense in life; the track, developed on melodies that alternate almost raw rock with melodic but speckled symphonies, is a bitter piece, laden with Pasolini film titles and a "Pigsty" vision of the bourgeoisie in front of the sacred. Then we reach the main song: “I mistici dell'occidente”: a true delight. The first verse is “Love of poverty knows no war,” a phrase by Jacopone da Todi, as always his is “To disdain reality,” then paired with “And this bunch of idiots will disappear” to endow it with the current strength of common language; the piece is based on a truly particular compositional scheme: it begins with a quasi-medieval rhythm, cadenced and accompanied by the sound of harps; the choruses are almost operatic, but everything then unfolds into their now - inherently - “westernophilic” context that seems just like a soundtrack piece à la Morricane, then seeming like a great homage to De André. Among the less sad (but only musically) pieces of the entire album is "Le rane." A song almost danceable, for an almost amusing rhythm. But it is still sadness and melancholy (other times when one went frog hunting) that well represent the almost dramatic backdrop of the conformed province and the inexorable passage of time “because time escapes us, but the mark of time remains”; the piece I prefer the most is the subsequent "Follonica": it is a spine-tingling song, which in a sense reminded me of the repeated and insistent turns of their old tracks, like "La Canzone del Parco"; here there is Montale and the sepia bones, the rhythm is almost phantasmagoric, towards a lost recognition of the identity of a place. Another track that struck me from the first listens is "L’estate enigmistica", very "Amen" in a sense; very rock and exuberant; not as distressing is "La Canzone della Rivoluzione," much more rhythmic, also more rock (and still very peculiar for the metric times, for the organ backgrounds, and for the choirs) where Bianconi stirs souls by calling for at least an individual and moral revolution. In "Groupies," Rachele can be dramatic, the track is compared to the others and in my opinion slightly weaker in melody involvement, except for a very successful cinematic atmosphere, both for how it begins and especially for an incredible almost chivalric crescendo à la Ennio Morricone with which our musicians have shown they have become quite adept, and which they immediately reprise in the subsequent “La bambolina”.
It’s a very complex album, which despite everything presents us with the Baustelle again, who have been able to be always themselves but at the same time be different, this is what struck me most about their work: personalising themselves as much as possible, creating a mix of genres to contribute artistically, which if before had some equals in the Italian scene, now it is clear: they are unique.' - DeBaser.