INJECTING NEW LIFE INTO THE MALTESE SONG
The Maltese Underground
Brikkuni is a ferociously independent underground band that has been active since 2006 within a cash-strapped music scene that hardly allows for any profit unless one totally forsakes his vision and settles for straight-up radio fodder. Malta has a population a little north of 400K. You don't get to sell a lot of records, and you don't get to play a bunch of gigs to diverse audiences even if you're a mainstream act. Let alone an alternative one whose front-man's controversial views often rub people the wrong way. More often than not it's the day job sustaining your artistic exploits. Our way around this was to find a young promising upstart who genuinely dug our music and was only too happy to be exploited. Franco was the answer to our wicked prayers. Sorry Franco.
I've always felt more in tune with the alternative scene in Malta than the mainstream one. Considering the size of our country, the niche is considerably small. Yet it's usually the indie and alternative acts that push themselves to create proper innovative concepts. I can relate to that through the discomfort of wanting to create something fresh without having the right or enough resources. Even though the person who's more likely to be sorry about being "exploited" is me, I was always ready to provide a visual accompaniment to something unique and deserving of more attention than the typical run-of-the-mill output.
"Seoul keeps giving me an energy I didn't quite feel in years. Seoul is for me what London or Berlin is for some other Maltese expats, artistically invigorating and filled with personal growth."
Franco Rizzo · Director · SeoulHow did the artists meet?
I got to know Franco through our guitarist Andrew. He had shot some live footage on the occasion of our former album Rub Al Khali's launch. I was immediately struck by his no-nonsense approach and resourcefulness. What really sealed the deal was his genuine love for our music. In Franco I saw someone who could really get us and add another dimension to our sound instead of merely visually adorning it. He also struck me as a misfit of sorts. He didn't look too cool for school like most upcoming artists from the local underground circuit did. In fact he looked more like a kid ready to join the seminary. There was no way this wasn't going to work out.
I had first met Mario on a music video shoot for another local artist, Bark Bark Disco. The Brikkuni frontman is notorious for his unfiltered views, and through his online persona, you'd be forgiven to think of him as unapproachable. On that shoot, that assumption quickly withered away, as he let his hair down, cracked some signature dance moves, and went along for the ride. I think what brings together this admittedly vanilla exterior of a guy and a singer with occasional brusque mannerisms is an artistic sensibility that doesn't really like settling for the common and easiest route towards creating art.
Greatest inspirations and influences?
We are a pretty eclectic bunch. Oliver, our bass player is a professional jazz musician based in Paris, Jimmy has a penchant for Americana, Alan is knee-deep into electronica and hip hop, Andrew was generally the one introducing us to the newest hip bands doing the rounds. Kim's operatic voice might mislead one into thinking she is a classical aficionado, however she leans more towards dream pop: Goldfrapp, Beach House. John on drums loves Steve Hackett and wildlife documentaries. I mainly draw my inspiration from iconic Italian singer-songwriters such as Fabrizio De Andre and Franco Battiato. I also have a decades-long love affair with defunct Italian pro-soviet punk band C.C.C.P. But on any given day I could listen to anything from Marvin Gaye to Fela Kuti, The National, Talking Heads, Brian Eno. Much depends on my mood.
Too many to mention. I mostly consume as much film, photography, graphic novels and music as I can whenever I have the time. Just a few things I came across recently: Winter in Sokcho by Elisa Shua Dusapin, the Beastie Boys Story documentary, and a Toulouse-Lautrec exhibition here in Seoul. Seoul city is an inspiration unto itself.
You talk about the revival of Maltese pop music. Tell us about that.
For a good 20 years between the late eighties and late nineties the main musical output sung in our native tongue was mostly restricted to melodramatic, turgid ballads written for local musical competitions. To add insult to injury, the few bands that seemed capable of capturing the public's imagination did so by badly mimicking foreign artists. There were hardly any local bands that an angry, disillusioned, impassioned youth could truly relate to while feeling cool about it. I believe we filled that void for a while. I am happy to report that things have improved considerably since 2008.
"The song's title, Fomm ir-Rih (Wind's Mouth), is a nod to a beautiful secluded beach in the outskirts of Mgarr, the small village where I was born and raised. In the song it is re-imagined as a mystical place where parted lovers reunite."
What is the connection with South Korea?
Our connection with South Korea was pretty coincidental. Franco moved there late last year. We thought it was a pretty bold move on his behalf since local visual artists intent on breaking into the industry usually opt for more fancied western capitals such as Berlin or London. We never really thought that his move away from Malta would be in any way problematic. On the contrary, we saw an opportunity. We strongly felt that Seoul's landscape would provide the perfect foil to our song's ethereal qualities.
It started with my fascination with South Korean movies. Park Chan-Wook's Oldboy left an indelible mark on me. I am intrigued by the marriage between visuals and subject matter in South Korean movies, and their ability of weaving narratives that shift tones quite easily. Two years ago I decided to challenge myself and learn a new language. Since I am fond of Korean movies, it follows that I should learn Korean. Talk about taking a challenge literally. It turned out to be more than just learning the language. I found out more about the culture, the history, the food, visited the country twice, and on both occasions I felt this is where I should stay. While Malta is still my home country, it no longer feels like home for me for a multitude of reasons. Seoul keeps giving me an energy I didn't quite feel in years.
Inspiration behind the video?
I took onboard the idea of Fomm ir-Rih being a non-descript abstract place where one feels complete, be it with a long-lost love, with family, or with your own self. There's that kind of longing in every person, so I drew that from my own experience and that of the actors. I took a page out of Terrence Malick's book, filmed lots of footage with a minimum set of narrative devices, and mostly worked with feeling and through association in the editing phase.
Anything else you'd like to share?
I'd like to ask your readers how best to start chain smoking. I've been trying unsuccessfully since the fifth grade. It would be quite an accomplishment. Thank you for your time. I'm off to waste mine.
While you suggest to Mario ways to start chain smoking, stay safe inside while you listen to Brikkuni's latest album on Spotify: Il-Hajja, il-Mewt, in-Nisa (Life, Death, Women) and their back catalog. And be sure to check out other alternative Maltese acts.
"Much will be said about your youthful exuberance, your sharp wit, boundless creativity, amazing knack of thinking out of the box and above all, your moral soundness, integrity and sensitivity. Barely a week ago we were holding each other tight professing our pure and untainted brotherly love to each other." — Mario Vella
This interview was conducted when the album was newly released. It sits alongside a week of features on underground music cultures from Japan, Cambodia, Zambia, and now Malta. Each one a reminder that the most interesting music is rarely the loudest.
photo credits Lyndsey Bahia - Sacha Kinser., Storbju. + Video stills