Lucia Cifarelli – I Am Eye (Review)

Lucia Cifarelli’s personality shines like a blacklight in a florescent art gallery, on her 2021 solo album, I Am Eye.

Although perhaps most well-known for her powerful work with a certain industrial rock outfit, I’ve been pining for another solo outing since her sublime 2003 masterpiece, From the Land of Volcanoes.

Ever since she fronted the alt-rock Drill in the 90s, Lucia has struck me as one who bursts at the seams with heart, soul, and authenticity.

Instead of conforming to some cookie-cutter pop mold (which she could pull of masterfully), she invites us into a striking, vibrant sonic dimension, where raw emotion meets personable storytelling, and where pop tropes are seduced and inverted by fearless artistic ingenuity.

Girls Like Me

The opener, “Girls Like Me” (which Lucia directed the video for, and in a totally badass move invited her ferocious and beautiful lady fans to take the spotlight), doesn’t waste a bit of time letting you know who you’re talking to: “I think it’s better you know I have a dark side.” Those words, performed with elegance and grace to a bopping beat and uplifting soundscape, is exactly the type of situation that makes guys like me feel at home. Girls like you shine indeed, Lucia.

To Be Alive

Futurepop synths serve as a rocket ship with engines that purr like robot kittens; a worthy transport to launch this set of soulful lyrics through the stratosphere and beyond. To me, this song is about striving throughout life to function and excel in this world, but somehow always ending up feeling like a distorted shadow of what was meant to be. “Talkin’ to the sky, SOS, waiting for a sign that I never get/Always seem to be the last in line to be alive.” Uh, you stalking me, Lucia?

Last of Me

“Last of Me’s” message, conveyed with competence and conviction, seems along the lines of describing the biding of time between desolation and return to form. You can nearly taste the juice in that rolling bass.

Command

Lucia transitions from smooth to crunchy peanut butter without missing a beat. “Command” balances minimalism and complexity in compelling splendor, in a song that could be processed in multiple ways. Could be a cathartic rendition of the voice of God, somehow managing to seem serious and satirical simultaneously (if that’s it, it’s genius). Could have been the terms and conditions Lucia had her husband sign prior to matrimony (also genius). Could be something else altogether. In any event, it slaps.

I Am Eye

Lucia embraces her inner philosopher, and to magnificent effect. Her unmistakable vocal footprint animates this aural saga of falling, rising, isolating in obscurity, and connecting to neuron-rending synchronistic forces of guidance and universal wisdom.

Get It

Lucia has a unique ability to express simple, relatable concepts, adding some mutagen and metaphorical subtext to deliver a heart and mind-twisting voyage. “Get It” exemplifies this, and with the sauciest earworm hook of the record.

Dear Divinity

OK, I lied, maybe “Dear Divinity” has the earwormiest chorus. It’s just an entirely different breed of earworm. The chorus vocals are elevated by omen-simmering chanting from beyond time and space, the human expression of the Music of the Spheres, when those Spheres are in some kind of mood to tell the world to straighten the fuck up or face the fire. It’s beautiful. I’m all in. The heaviest guitar breakdown on the album adds to the emphasis, making this an emotionally visceral and memorable song of glorious contrasts.

No Place Like Home

A lowkey choice for a closer, this fitting blend of raw emotion and dramatic flair is bound together by gritty, restrained electronics, and its powers grow stronger in my heart each time I listen.

I Am Eye clearly comes out of a special place in Lucia’s heart and life, a place of synchronicity and wonder, at some intersection between inner human dissonance and long-awaited harmonious redemption. It’s a breezy, refreshing, catchy, provocative listen, and my humble conclusion is that you are a pud if you don’t listen to it:

Bandcamp

Spotify

Amazon