Words by Ernest J. Carlton
Let’s talk today about an artist whom we discovered with his first single, ‘Real’, and for whom we reserved a review if the second single would have lived up to the previous one. An interesting artist, Umberto Bravo, who didn’t disappoint us, although his music is difficult to categorize…
‘Sacred Sinner’ is the second single by Umberto Bravo, released on January 14th on all digital platforms. Blending the flavors of pop-gospel ballads with the sensuality of R&B, Umberto Bravo reveals particular knowledge of pop music and its language of seduction. The song begins with a confession: “Time and time again/I long to feel your breath/Wandering on my skin.” Explicit, without being tawdry. The lyrics of ‘Sacred Sinner’ set a human precedent rather than arguing about a social issue. This fine pop opera, in fact, is to be found when Bravo’s chorus leaps to the song title’s great, almost taboo revelation: “You burn me like a sacred sinner/ Feed me with your guilty pleasure/… but nothing ever felt so right!”
But ‘Sacred Sinner’ goes further along the path Umberto Bravo set with his previous single ‘Real’. The track works as an elaborate drawn-out sigh. The arrival of every new element (the echoing intro, the rhythm acoustic guitars, the gospel-ish background vocals), feels like an event. ‘Sacred Sinner’ works as pop music, and it’s full of sharp and shivery melodies, but it never forces those hooks. It lets them breathe.
Hearing the song, the only thing keeping it from making it to a wedding ballad list is that it’s a tale of a relationship steeped in sexual bond and emotional dependency of the narrator himself who, although trying every way to bring the relationship also to a more ethereal level, succumbs to his partner’s will, and then finding himself reborn with a new awareness: the value of passion within a relationship. It’s too out of the box and a too-conscious concept for a wedding night. Umberto Bravo does not deal with love like Bruno Mars in ‘Marry you’, or like Prince in ‘When 2 R in love’. His lyrics insinuate the complicity of those whom, although intimate, are not officially wrapped up and twisted by a prime-time movie love story. The sacred image of the sinner alludes to the clearly sexual consent of the narrator and to the role-playing game imposed by the partner, but each verse delves into intimacy with contrasting tenderness and eroticism (‘Something ’bout the way you crack a smile, beautiful child, I can’t resist yearning for that kiss’).
It may seem to go against the rules of equality as set out by political correctness but perhaps only adult experience can teach a listener to respect the sense of sexual and emotional play that Bravo vouchsafes – especially in his call-and-response catchphrases in the final chorus “Like a sacre sinner/Your sweet crime/Guilty pleasure”. Intertwining romantic firmness (‘You can’t keep on breathing for someone whose heart is beating for another one’) with piquant innuendos (‘One touch and I just come alive’), Umberto Bravo arrives to the public both as a mature and skillful author and as a refined interpreter and musical producer in a song that, as well as from a musical point of view, transcends the scheme of ballads or slow-tempo songs. “Sacred Sinner” is not a love song, let alone musical pornography, but it certainly goes against the traditional dynamic of the relationships of equality that exist between two people in love.
The artist keeps the promise he made to the public of his first single, ‘Real’ (arrived at number 7 on the indie/pop charts in Denmark), through which he made his declaration of intent aimed at being real, true, original, to go beyond the sonic trends of the moment and not to care about the market that wants yet another 3-minutes mega-hit to be played on the radio, which, within a month, gives way to the next one. Umberto Bravo talks about himself and lays bare, more than in the first single, revealing intimate details of his feeling and experiences life and music. Details which, however, unfortunately, will only be shared with the few who have been reached or will be reached by his music. This is perhaps the only painful aspect of the song, which risks being a refined product of contemporary pop music of an independent artist, therefore not supported by a major to pitch it everywhere and through any promotional services, and destined only to a select few.
However, something makes us understand that Umberto Bravo is aware of this lack. First of all is the choice to accompany the song with a video and to entrust once more the direction to Luca Bizzi, who also contributed to the musical production. The video gives the song an even more fascinating reading, mainly focusing on the sensual content. From a superficial examination of the lyrics one can remain somewhat suspended between the intuition of a forbidden-to-minors concept and the goal to conquer the partner’s heart, but by watching the video (the one censored on youtube. .. might there be an uncensored one?), the ardor that the protagonist feels is clear and evident, depicted in full sensory ecstasy in the role of the toyboy, between fire and flames, or that sees him as a metropolitan dandy, catapulted into post-apocalyptic realities, or sheathed and bound by strings of leather and rope, gripped by male and female hands on the semi-naked body, up to the awareness that sexual liberation brings, and which sees him reborn and free in a new cocoon reality.
One cannot predict the fate of a song, nor make predictions about the career of an artist, especially for an independent artist. The thing is that Umberto Bravo’s music is interesting, albeit out of the market, out of time, and out of the box.
