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Requiescat In Plavem is the solo debut of Krano, reportedly recorded up a mountain and apparently not to be followed up: since getting it to tape in 2012, the man has left the scene. The sound is alt-country by way of Italy, atmospheric and sung in the Veneto dialect. This LP release is on Maple Death Records, complete with liner notes and accompanying download.

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  • MDR004
  • MDR004 / LP on Maple Death Records. Includes insert and Obi Strip
  • Includes download code

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Requiescat In Plavem by Krano 1 review. Add your own review. 8/10
9 people love this record. Be the 10th!

8/10 Staff review, 21 April 2016

Neil Young has lost it. The Pono is weird; ‘The Montano Years’ was a bad record; he has spent too much time with Jack White. I say this because Krano’s new record, ‘Requiescat In Pavem’, begins like a mischievous version of “Out On The Weekend”, bringing me back to a time when Young was masterful and slight at the same time, rather than a gimmick merchant maximalist. This kind of folk revisionism reminds me of then, not now -- obviously not a totally good quality, considering how the War On Drugs like to be Dire Straits, but when the music is this pretty? I’ll take it.

This isn’t all Youngian, but that’s okay: I’m just trying to impress on you the prettiness of the thing. That first track establishes the simplicity and melodicism Krano is trying, in all corners, to mine -- with quiet strums and a not tonally-disastrous harmonica, he bleeds together a couple elements of Americana ‘til plaintive.  “Tosca” begins with a creaking piano ditty before turning into a melancholy barnburner, like Tom Petty in a hurry, and he puts an airy distance between artist and listener on “Busiero”, invoking ghostly lil’ harmonies to beautify his crooked song.

The record’s blurb cites “Italian weed”. I believe him: this is a meandering and accidentally sparse record, one that sorta forgets its purpose in moments and goes borderline between excited and slumbering. Those slack strums that squeeze between the piano twinkling of “Amighi”; the flickering percussion that tries to fix a structure onto the wayward picking of “Schei”; the long, near extinguished ambient guitar ruminations of “Va Pian”.

They’re so chill and so far away. Up on the mountain, Krano is doing okay. He would send you a postcard but he misplaced his stamps.



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