As makers of imaginary (and actual) film soundtracks, this Italian group refer to themselves as “the bastard sons of Fellini”, a title that captures their mischievous spirit. This fourth album flies past in 14 short tracks that sometimes suggest a lost Morricone western (as on the whistled title track), at others a sultry Italian arthouse flick. There are lashings of guitar twang courtesy of maestro Marc Ribot, moody vocals from diva Carla Lippis and chanteuse Emmanuelle Sigal, and touches of Mexican brass and homegrown folk. It’s a shapeshifter, but its playfulness is underpinned by skilful playing and breezy melodies. Something different.
