My Cat Is An Alien (MCIAA)  formed in 1997 bringing together Torino based brothers Maurizio & Roberto Opalio. And over the years the pair have released 70 plus albums, as well as a host of EP’s & a few compilations. To create their distinctively blend of intergalactic improv- the pair utilize a mix guitars, effects, wordless vocalizations, subtle synth elements, and loops.

This release comes in a card mini gatefold- this takes in a series of moody blurred & undefined pictures, a small write up about the albums concept/ ideas, & a picture of the pair. Considering the  popularity of MCIAA a few years back, I’m guessing this comes in a fairly big/ untitled edition…so unlike many things we feature on M[m], I’m guess you’ll be able to get your hands on this fairly easily .

The CD features a single self-titled track, and this comes in at just shy of the thirty-seven-minute mark. According to the liner notes the beginnings / seeds of this composition came about when Robert uncovered his adolescent collection of punk & indie rock vinyl recordings- finding the whole collection ruined by oxidation processes, so each albums play surface was covered with a blanket of static noise.  So the track opens with a slowly layer building blend of looped vinyl crackle/ pop, & subtle spacey feedback trails. At around the two-minute mark, a tolling & chiming guitar  comes into play, and this really ushers in the feel of white  bleak-ness, or desolation, as if you’ve just landed down on either a barren snow planet or similar.

By around the fifth minute, another layer of harmonica-yet- sweet ‘n’ sad guitar has come into play- this has a very compressed & thin feel to it, bringing to mind a subdued banjo strum or similar. Around this the original tolling guitar carriers on it’s locked path, and this joined by the building skittering mesh of vinyl loops, spacey feed-back swirls ‘n’ ebbs- the whole thing conjures up such a  tangible feeling of forlorn-ness & grey windswept-ness, yet it’s always underpinned by this very alien/ other vibe.

As we move towards the half-way mark, the swirling & ebbing feedback/ spacey synth swoops have built to a more pressing & louder form, as the sound picture builds & builds. And pretty soon after this, we get the subtle at-first, then growing-yet- haunted swoops & wails of Roberto’s wordless vocalizing.  All bringing to mind the discovery of some strange & sad alien forms darting ‘n’ shifting in the stark white haze of the planets surface. At  this part in the track, things do start to become a little muddled- as there are some many interlocking layers going on here, though thankfully things do seem to plateau/ then pare back a bit around the late twenty-minute mark. Before in it’s last five or so minutes we pare back to just the tolling guitar & loop grain.

On the whole, The Sky With Broken Arms is a solid return from the brothers, and I really do enjoy the distinctively sad & weathered- yet alien vibe they managed to create here. I just felt maybe the composition could have been curtailed slightly in the last quarter, with maybe slightly more focus present- but as this piece was seemingly improvised/ done in one take, that would have rather taken away the spontaneity of the whole thing.