Grief comes in multiple shapes and forms. None of them are pleasing to the eye or the ear. On 2:25, Alessandro Brivio confronts loss as a system under stress, short-circuiting in real time.
The cover image—a specular photograph of graffiti spelling La Morte Non Ha Senso (Death Makes No Sense), doubled and inverted into near illegibility—sets the tone for a record that refuses clarity, mirroring the cognitive disarray of loss. Since his debut 6pezzi2009+lagodelnulla on Senufo, Brivio has explored loops and rhythmic repetition, often drawing from African patterns; here, those tendencies collapse inward, mutating into jammed circuits and malfunctioning systems.
The opening track, “Cerchi” (26’03”), could stand alone as a release: an abrasive, confrontational expanse where different systems collide, forced through extreme processing and splintering into stuttering, unstable configurations. There are moments when the tension subsides, although the underlying rage keeps the momentum going. What once felt like carefully balanced studies now teeters on the edge of rupture, as if the material itself were resisting containment, at the risk of wearing itself out.
Across the remaining tracks, Brivio sketches a fractured cartography of grief’s non-linear stages—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance—without ever settling into them. “Diarismi” and “3.03” continue the tension between separation and collapse, their stratified layers suggesting a kind of sonic bargaining, each element vying for space yet never fully coalescing.
It is midway through “Controra” that a fragile shift occurs: the density thins, and a subdued, almost hollowed atmosphere emerges, hinting at acceptance without fully embracing it. These quieter passages feel like depression folding back into reflection. The album closes with “VV,” a 21-second drift that exhales with no catharsis, no closure—only the faint release of pressure.
Composed during a difficult period in 2025 as a tribute to a lost friend, 2:25 stands as a work of raw processing, where sound itself becomes both the site and the residue of mourning, revealing the process in all its necessary and inevitable messiness. (Gianmarco Del Re)
a closer listen 