“I brought the matter to my desperation, and the more foolishly I exposed it, the better for me.”
The Karamazov Brothers, FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY
Upon the slow rhythms of a softly vibrating drum machine, a simple sequence of ethereal synth chords unfolds, accompanied by the voice of Niccolò Contessa, distorted and filtered as if possessed by dark forces. With an impassive tone, I Cani offer their cold and relentless analysis of the social role within the Western context. A spoken examination, devoid of melody, originating from a metropolis: the nerve center of Milan, a European city, where work becomes the sole existential purpose, and pop stars behave like businesses – perhaps because they are. It’s the same city of bothersome “bosses” who, in the week’s latest controversy, agonize over giving lessons to young precariats on how to make money.
