Style: Progressive rock (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Pink Floyd, Yes, Franco Battiato, Premiata Forneria Marconi
Country: Italy
Release date: 23 January 2025
“To have seen Italy without having seen Sicily is not to have seen Italy at all, for Sicily is the clue to everything.” Thus spake Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe of his Italian journey in 1787. Coming from Palermo myself, of Sicilian metal and rock acts I know too few—death metallers Dark Secret from Caltanissetta, symphonic black metal band Inchiuvatu from Sciacca, and doomers Haunted from Catania—but for prog, specifically? Much as Goethe remarks, it felt a little like I was missing a piece of the puzzle until today, when I found myself writing about just such a group: Ologram from Syracuse. Ologram just put out their sophomore album La Mia Scia (“My Trail”) in January—a melancholic, contemplative and nostalgic progressive rock release, in the vein of 1970s pensive prog acts like Pink Floyd, but lacking some of the blues or psychedelic influence. Unfolding at a slow and deliberate pace, steeped in somber introspection, its track listing flows by, carried on wistful melodies and poetic lyricism—yet, for all its atmosphere, La Mia Scia never really takes shape. The music drifts, traveling endlessly on the autostrada without ever reaching a destination.
The compositions on La Mia Scia struggle to move along with any real purpose, with Ologram often reusing tired, terraced dynamics over the course of the album: loud, quiet, loud again, with practically every song playing into some variation of this structure. Tending towards energetic choruses leading back into soft, reverberant arpeggiated guitar in the verses, by the fourth track “Non Sarai”, it all starts to feel a little repetitious. There’s hardly a memorable riff here aside from the intro to “Kasbah”, which distinctly recalls “Kashmir” by Led Zeppelin; and the intro to “1997,” where an electronic drum and background melody leads into a syncopated rhythm over a reverberant, emotional short lead guitar solo.
There is a bit of experimentation on La Mia Scia, however, where beyond traditional rock elements and the aforementioned electronic drum samples in the intros to “1997” and “Non Sarai”, Ologram dabble in some symphonic or acoustic elements that present themselves midway through the album, on tracks like “Jacaranda” and “Descent”. On “Jacaranda”, the focus is on a crescendo acoustic-guitar-and-string-backed vocal performance that adds some variety, and lends a 70s progressive folk quality to La Mia Scia in the vein of fellow countrymen Premiata Forneria Marconi, or even something approaching Jethro Tull. And on the instrumental piece “Descent”, Ologram has their stand-out moment as they very nearly take on a symphonic prog metal sensibility with heavy palm-muting and synthesizer leads with violin backing—but these are some of the few times something, anything, interesting happens on La Mia Scia.
Vocally, there’s an undeniable emotional weight—vocalist Fabio Speranza delivers every line with the weary sigh of someone lost in memory, lamenting the past. However, this mournful approach rarely varies, making the album feel even more one-note. Lyrically, La Mia Scia leans heavily on abstract metaphors and sentimental imagery. While it’s very flowery and contemplative, much like the music, it rarely leads anywhere concrete. The words sound profound but their meaning remains just out of reach; atoms entwine, trees embrace the sea, time stands still—all very poetic, sure, yet often leaving more of an impression than an impact.
None of this makes La Mia Scia a bad record. It’s atmospheric, enveloping the listener in its brooding haze; the production is polished and spacious, with each instrument given room to breathe while the arrangements emphasize texture over momentum; and it’s sincere in its melancholy. But the tempos don’t change much beyond a midpace, the band never breaks a sweat, and variations in the soundscape are few and far between save for the aforementioned folky or fleeting heavy metal moments. La Mia Scia is frustratingly static, offering little to grasp onto beyond its mood. For those seeking an album to sink into, letting its sadness wash over them, there’s something here. For anyone looking for more—movement, excitement, or even just a hook that lingers—this may feel like a beautiful, but empty, experience.
Recommended tracks: “1997”, “Descent”, “Kasbah”
You may also like: Wounded Knee, Phantom Spell, Silver Nightmares, Alex Carpani
Final verdict: 6/10
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Facebook | Instagram
Label: Independent
Ologram is:
– Fabio Speranza (vocals)
– Lorenzo Giannì (guitars, backing vocals on “Jacaranda”)
– Dario Giannì (electric bass, fretless bass, keyboards, mellotron)
– Roberto Giannì (keyboards, piano)
– Giovanni Spadaro (drums, percussion, electronic drums)
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