Bar Italia was born with excitement, without quite intending it. Formed in London’s Peckham district, this trio began releasing music in 2020 anonymously. There was no intention, it was not a protest, they simply did not appear on the networks or give interviews because, as they said, they had nothing to say. But it was good for them. The expectation was created in England, always paying attention to the last person to pick up the guitar to make a pop song. After a while, it started to bother them, and the puzzle became more talked about than their music. With their third album, they revealed themselves.
The next ordeal was explaining the band’s name. It’s a bar in Soho called Bar Italia where he goes after going out to party. It’s also the title of a Pulp song, even though they didn’t want anything to do with Jarvis Cocker’s band. The truth is that neither their music nor them were talked about, but people admired what they did: com. shoegaze, postpunk, lo-fi, grunge…signs that hint at dirty guitar sounds accompanied by mysterious and intimate lyrics. There is loneliness, disappointments, life. But there is light, they have light.
In this interview they will not be asked about their origins or past. “Thank you,” says Nina Cristante, sitting in a Madrid hotel with fellow guitarists Sam Fenton and Jezmi Tarek Fahmy. Italy tape just released Some like it hot (Matador), a very good album, the fifth of their career and the album that should get them going, as happened for R.E.M., which until Document (1987) was a small thing Indie Of worship.
“Oh my God, I was just going to tell you,” Fahmi is startled when he mentions them. “Have you heard their first albums? They were terrible,” he says. “Their lyrics talked about nuclear disarmament and things like that. They were very political, which is not a bad thing, but there was a lot of talking, and the lyrics were almost incomprehensible. And the guitars were amazing, yeah,” he says. “It’s a great example of how you can move on to making music more accessible, more commercial but without being frivolous. Maturating your sound, creating something fun, is an art. When a band achieves that…” continues Fenton. “We’ve talked about it many times, and our best songs are pop,” he adds. Fahmy adds: “But wait, I don’t think this will happen to us like REM did.” They are also not worried about being too big. “Didn’t they tell us about the previous album?” Christante rushes. “Yes, but no one put it on Twitter,” Fenton quips.
These men take the profession lightly. Of course they’re passionate about making a living from music, they love to play, and they’ve always wanted to do it, “to be able to leave our regular jobs,” Christanti stresses, but they don’t spout any bullshit about improvement and entitlement. “I think I’m more pessimistic than ever. Sometimes I find it very difficult to take it seriously because it’s stupid to play guitar and sing stuff. It’s good to keep approaching what you do with a sense of humour. Otherwise you become the kind of person who goes to a party and talks about himself all the time,” Fahmy insists. “We put a lot of effort into this album,” Christanti reminds him. “Yes, but it’s not about doing the most intellectual and serious things ever,” Fahmy answers. “The beauty of this profession is that while you’re working hard, you’re having a good time. We’re making rock ‘n’ roll.”
The songs are written by all three, but not at the same time. Rather, each one comes with his own poetry, then they are put together, and they have a meaning. Whoever wants to give to each one. The whole album can be read as a message, like a chat of two people who loved each other, broke up, got back together, and they have to make things right, that there’s something missing to prove, and maybe another little message would do the trick… “It wasn’t our intention. But there are things that one can only understand or realize in music when one is in love or when one is experiencing heartbreak. Having three people working on the words alone can provide a universal experience,” Christianti admits. At the time of writing these songs, Fahmy was going through a period of separation. Everyone is pouring their thoughts onto the page, nothing is too clear, don’t expect a clue. “A few days ago I started reading a book from the 1970s that my girlfriend bought as a joke, called ‘How to Be Better in Relationships.’ From the first page you realize that writing is the most useless thing you can do,” he says. “Falling in love is the unbelievable, weird and useless thing we all do. It’s crazy. But it’s the best.”
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