Whoah, here's another deep crate find of some older Ovo-relarted stuff, this Italian import pairs Ovo's avamt-garde sludge-punk / avant-metal with the occult soundscapery of Claudio Rocchetti. Both of these italian artists are pretty far from each other in regards to sound source, intensity, violence, etc.,

Please don't mind the kiddie-emo look of this 7"s sleeve; the sounds engraved here are

Ovo's pair make me feel like I'm nodding off on allergy meds while the waste company is backing up their truck outside my window. It's in league with most of the duo's material that ends up on these splits: berserk, potentially unstable freakouts of unfettered cathartic expression, Stefania mixing together her haughty witchlike howl with fucking gross death metal-style guttural vomit. Musically you never know what you're getting; both of the Ovo songs are shiort, "Carestia" erupting into droning, noise-damaged bass-heavy and discordant sludge that lurches along violently until it all slams into a wall, while the cackling "In A Corner" at barely a minute and a half conjures a creeped-out ghostdrone vibe, atomizes into pure shriek, high-voltage electric buzzing, crushing blasts of glacial drums, but likewise ultimately going nowhere but thin air. Heavy? Yes. Improvised? Could be. These two always set my hair on end with everyt5hing I hear from them, so mission accomplished on that front.

Where this gets really intriguing is on the flip. The Claudio Rocchetti side is strangely copacetic with that grotesque and frightening avant-sludge on the first side. For almost five minutes, "The Black Lake" crumbles apart into a genuinely eerie-sounding electro-acoustic soundscape, one teeming with constant low-frequency electronic drones, fragments of minor-key acoustic guitar, , seemingly endless clusters of scrape and knock and rattle like a sudden rush of poltergeist activity during a doom-folk set, with some perfectly lovely female singing lilting over certain moments of the piece, an almost childlike, dazed tone to her voice as it seems to sync with those guitar chords for a moment, but then become untethered and adrift over the fields of microscopic, potentially malevolent acoustic noises. This feels like something that could have been shaped into a much longer, even more unsettling piece of abstract sound, so yeah, I'm definitely going to be on the lookout for more Rocchetti material after this. Oh, and the guy prints a quote from an Iron Maiden song in the insert, so that's neat.