For this edition of Ask The Artist, we turned to Alessio Erriu, guitarist for the legendary Italian masters of melancholy, NOVEMBRE — a band that has spent over three decades crafting some of the most evocative and soul-stirring metal ever to drift out of Rome’s shadowed corners.
With the group’s stunning new album Words of Indigo about to descend upon the world, we asked Alessio a question that cuts straight to the heart of every listener who’s ever been undone by a melody:
“Can you name top-5 metal songs that can make you cry? And non-metal ones?”
Here’s what he said.
🎶 ALESSIO ERRIU’S PICKS
Non-metal:
The Raven That Refused to Sing – Steven Wilson
Bad – U2
Pariah – Steven Wilson
Manhattan – Eric Johnson
Symptom of Life – Willow
Metal:
The Drapery Falls – Opeth
Rational Gaze – Meshuggah
Handful of Nothing – Pain of Salvation
You’ve Seen the Butcher – Deftones
Flying Whales – Gojira
“I don’t think my answer would be the same if you asked me the same question ten years ago, or if you asked me ten years from now. Music changes with you. It’s like a flood. It may change its shape or consistency, but it always remains something that has flowed through you.
Anyway, in the non-metal world, I chose these songs because they really influenced the way I understand melodies, arrangements, and the beauty of a great sound.
I also mentioned some artists from the new generation, like Willow, who really surprised me as a musician. I think there are so many fresh ideas and sources of inspiration in this world that are ready to explode in a positive way, having something powerful and timely to communicate.
The ‘dark side’ of the list, by the way, is something I’ve carried inside me since I first started getting into metal in a broader sense. I wouldn’t define myself as a classic ’80s metaller — probably for generational reasons — it wasn’t really the music that shaped my teenage years (apart from the great classics of the metal ‘literature,’ of course, eheh).
I could mention a thousand more songs, but let’s stick to five for now. I’ve been influenced by countless genres over the years, but what ties my metal listening together is a strong communicative intent, melody, melancholy, tight riffs, compact grooves, and a kind of suspense, all in a whirl of cryptic atmospheres.
Can I sneak in one more non-metal song? Love, Hate, Love by Alice in Chains!”
Novembre Returns with “Words of Indigo”
After nearly a decade of silence, Novembre rise once more — not as ghosts of their past, but as alchemists of sound reborn. Coinciding with 35 years since their beginnings under the Catacomb moniker, the Rome-based pioneers of atmospheric doom/death unveil their ninth studio album, Words of Indigo, arriving November 7th via Peaceville Records.
A record both vast and intimate, Words of Indigo is a breathtaking voyage through memory, melancholy, and metamorphosis. Each song feels like a painting of sound — torn between violent beauty and serene surrender. It’s the most elaborate and emotionally charged work of the band’s career: a seamless dance between danger and innocence, fear and nostalgia, chaos and calm.
The latest single, “House of Rain,” perfectly captures the soul of Words of Indigo — an anthem of nostalgia, loss, and the ghosts of places we once called home.
“The moment the main motif of House of Rain poured out, I knew we had something special,” says Carmelo Orlando. “It’s not the kind of theme you stumble upon every day. It’s an instant sing-along and had to be handled with special care if we didn’t want it to go to waste on a two-bit tune.
Once it was done, I felt it needed another vocal line an octave higher to go along with mine. That’s where the idea of female vocals came in. Luckily, one of my all-time favourite singers, Ann-Mari Edvardsen (ex–The 3rd and the Mortal), had just moved to my hometown in Sicily. It only felt natural to call her — and to my surprise, she happily accepted.
Then the band was phenomenal — the rhythm section thundering ahead like a train, and the central solo lifted the piece to soaring heights.
Like something out of a fate-driven novel, it all came together — Ann-Mari, my return to the old country — and the lyrics could only be about an old house, the houses we leave behind, and the silence they must have carried all those years without us kids tearing through their rooms. Do they miss us? Do they feel lonely?”
A song both mournful and majestic, House of Rain feels like the beating heart of Novembre’s resurrection — a reminder that even in decay, beauty can still bloom.
