Carboniferous, volcanic ancient rocks founding a prehistoric island stucked in between two continents. The scenery left in awe the first human who stopped there a little while. It was more than 500’000 years ago, but the floating perfumes of myrth and laurels, of rosemary and thyme bewitched them. People started to live in this island named now Sardinia. They developed a strong, autonomous, surly, hot-blooded character. They resisted to empires, wars, invasions, mass tourism and capitalism. They became as solid as the geological foundations of their ground. But since 1999 some stones are suddenly turning to dust all over the island, getting pulverized by the wrathful rage of K’e-k’e-m’s music. The traditional Sardinian chants turn into a savage, over-vitamined punk n roll. K’e-k’e-m got in town a little late but they drank the whole grapa and myrth liquor’s stock of last night’s pub during the travel and they are over-psyched to kick ass. They have no rate measuring apparatus. They drive fast. They play fast. Speeding up gives ephemeral and repetitive climax in bodies leaving in a place where space has its limits. Speeding up eases mouthes to spit their anger out. If Sardinian rockers are limited by space, they fuck the time away.
Insularcore / Celestial pavement bums / Pump up the stones