The Sex Unmask Yourself

My adventure buddies? The silent, enigmatic Patti, former singer of the mysterious No Suicide, and the young, faithful Chris, a passionate Police fan, we met on the battlefield and he immediately became my brother. For him, learning to play the bass was a way to get close to Sting, in other words, just one step below Paradise. Patti instead played keyboards as an extension of her mysterious and glacial presence, so still and distant that the audience sometimes wondered if she was real. And then there was my fixation for the drum machine, a futuristic device which could transform the drumming sweat into an invisible, yet physical, dreamlike pulsation. A particular combination of characters and a special astral conjunction, that’s what you need to get a nucleus source of sonic emotions, and in some ways this is what we were. You could clearly feel it during the concerts. When at the end of ‘81 My Mercenary God lost their drummer and had to disband, I felt clearly that the music had already changed. Our old 70’s rock ‘n’ roll sound was no longer representative of the day. We were like some sort of yesterday’s newspaper. Thus I Sex was born (later The Sex). According to Freudian thought that sees sexual instinct as the driving force behind every (creative or destructive) human act. And in fact we immediately started creating, destroying, assembling and deconstructing our sound. Suddenly “tomorrow became now”. It was an outburst of creative independence in the form of homemade cassettes put together with makeshift tools, at least until the arrival of the legendary 4 track recorder. I was 19 years old, Chris was only 17. Nothing more than kids after all. Yet we were already veterans, veterans of a lost war. Wise, naive, disillusioned dreamers, everything and the opposite of everything. But, above all, we were totally devoted to our creative delirium up to the point of losing touch with reality, crossing limits, breaking down barriers and almost bordering on madness. Perhaps we were just too involved, especially if in relationship with what we could receive in return. We always spread our energies as if there was no future. We unconsciously felt that we had to live in the moment, now or never, and in retrospect it really was like that, and this is why these songs exist now. Songs created with the intent to tell an inner universe that is, now as then, far from any convention.