Two years after Of Shadows, Italian singer-songwriter and musician Fabrizio Cammarata released a new album. Lights is out now via 800A Records and Kartel Music Group. He worked again with long-time collaborator, the acclaimed producer Dani Castelar (Paolo Nutini, Editors, REM) between Studio Indigo in Palermo, Sicily and Barxeta in Valencia, Spain. Eleven tracks which show his delicate and incisive writing and the different shades of the sound, from intimate melodies to rough moments. After the full streaming, he explains the new work track by track. Check it below.

All Is Brighter

It is the moment where you realize that the light is not the destination, but a means to see. It must show you the way, but if you look at it too long it blinds you.

Run Run Run

It’s a song about the convenience of speed, during moments of changes.

It’s much easier to move fast to have the illusion of renewal, but sometimes we just brush our most uncomfortable feelings under the rug.

So, it’s a bit of an ironic invitation to keep on running, like “yeah, go ahead and same a postcard from this amazing new place you’re about to discover!”.

It’s much harder to stand still and read what our own soul has to tell us, deep down where motion will only make fuzzier and unclear.

KV

A rock’n’roll song about love, sex and betrayal.

Eileen

The song speaks for itself, it’s very narrative and deals with the cages we build for ourselves. Free will gives us the illusion to be free. But the fact that I’m free to choose among thousands of different toothpaste brands doesn’t make me a free person. There’s a beautiful metaphor for Love, by an ancient Bengali poet: Love is like an elephant who wants to be tied to a stake through a thin silk string. It can escape anytime it wants with no effort, but he doesn’t do it. It chooses the bond and, yet, it’s free.

Under Your Face

Not a kind song… I’ve always wanted to confront myself with a different way of vocal performance, and for this one I wanted to play an uncomfortable character, someone coming out from the cold, from the darkness. As many of my songs, it’s a part of me reaching out for another part of me, but the moral of the story is always the same: be true to yourself. No lie lives forever, although the self-told ones always live longer.

Rosary

It’s a song about searching the “union” even in solitude. I was at the country house studio in Spain, one night, everybody else was sleeping of watching Netflix, so I grabbed a nylon strings guitar and went walking through the orange groves, illuminated by the moonlight. I found my space between the trees and the full moon was shining bright, and I thought there were at least 3 billion people in the planet who could have the same possibility to watch it in the same exact time. I have a very geometric mind (I became an engineer when I was younger, then left that for the sake of art) and I found it funny that I could imagine a “triangulation” between me and anyone who was watching the moon right then. I thought of this satellite as a messenger, as if it could bounce my song to a very distant person. I love the night sky. And counting the stars, too, it’s one of those silly things we do when we’re in love. Somehow I thought about such a “Sicilian” thing, the Rosary. Even for non-believers like me, there are countless ways of praying.

Timbuktu

Timbuktu is the golden city beyond the desert. 52 days by camel from the last outpost before Sahara begins. A legendary place, yet existing.

It’s another dimension from where I’m writing a letter, or rather a song, completely aware of the fact that I’ll never know if the message will ever reach its recipient.

Blue

It’s a love song, but it’s also a divertissement. Somehow I can see an R’n’b feel in it, it’s slightly experimental and one of my favorite episodes in “Lights”.

Cassiopea

It’s no accident if two or more constellations are next to each other in the night sky. The Ancients built up those mythologies as if they were watching it “live”, on a big screen. Cassiopeia, Cepheus, Andromeda and Perseus are part of the same story. Cassiopeia (in Italian it’s spelled “Cassiopea”) is a selfish and vain character, yet very charming and I find it the most beautiful and elegant night constellation, a “femme fatale”. Sometimes I would stare at it for hours, you can see it brightly all year long from Sicily. I sometimes associate constellation to people, and Cassiopeia makes me think of one in particular. A person with two souls, both indecipherable. That’s why I wrote a song where, harmonically and rhythmically, verse and chorus are so different. They don’t even share the language, as the chorus is sung in Italian, my first attempt ever of dealing with my mother’s idiom.

For My Heartbeats

Another rock’n’roll episode, a “divertissement”, and a quick breakdown of a love story gone bad.

My Guitar at 4 AM

After an exhausting recording session, I went to my room and I thought that all day long I had sung words that I wanted to address to one person in particular, who wouldn’t accept to be reached by me. It felt weird, so I imagined as if my guitar could be an intermediary between me and this person. Actually, as if I could the intermediary, like “hey, my guitar wants to speak with you, if you want I can hook you guys up”. Banal excuses to reach out…