This is already the fifth album from these charming garage punks from Bergamo, who—with every new song for over 10 years—have been digging up the grave of the MARKED MEN and picking out the best melodies like gold diggers. Is that even legal? Who cares? It’s worked for four albums now, and this one is yet another manifestation—cast in garage punk molasses—of slightly tipsy fun with guitars that are too loud and hi-hats that are too fast. You can’t keep your feet still. And you shouldn’t. Admittedly, the album’s title is simply the Roman numeral five—V—and since these are Italians, they’re allowed to do that; it doesn’t come across as pretentious—but given the daily horror stories we hear on the radio, the cover could also be a call for peace? Or even, in reference to the potbellied moneybag/bum
Josef Ackermann from Deutsche Bank, a victory sign? But don’t dwell too long on the wrapping, because the content will get even the sleepiest feet dancing. But I’ve already mentioned that ...