My Review: Shesgot - A House Into a Body

 

Alex Dematteis

Musicshockworld

Salford

19 February 2026

Shesgot - A House Into a Body

Vocabulary is becoming depleted, consequently we reflect less, speak worse, ridiculing languages, stealing the heritage of all peoples. However, there are moments of exaltation when, listening to an album like this, the richness of different forms of communication finds a way to emerge, using words, sounds, inclinations, perspectives and wonderful research, in this ensemble that recalls the long journey of the formation of concepts and their methods of expression.

A House Into a Body adopts, compresses and expands every instinct to build, with an effective work of layered, epochal synergies, a solid body endowed with remarkable autonomy. To do so, it circumnavigates different expressive genres, starting with Federico Palmieri's songwriting methodology (with a crooning that is at once nervous, disenchanted, sublimely toxic and evocative, leading to enchanting melodic performances), and then emphasising, through the wide range of music, the sound, scratches, and explosions of dense clusters of ribs that define the various and significant expressions of a combo in which the guitar becomes the sorcerer and the bass and drumming the nerves that define cognitive spaces of great value.

The temptation of the black slime of The Seeker, the 2021 debut album, in which shoegaze flashes and post-punk whirlwinds were absolute helmsmen, disappears almost entirely. Here, instead, we experience the drama that requires greater expansion and modalities to build a multicoloured and multiform foundation. Rock vibrates with riffs and arpeggios, in fascinating nocturnal deserts where erotic flashes and cabaret live in a theatre with a mobile stage, constantly advancing, with a plot that recounts the neurosis and blindness of a changing and guilty reality. Tics and suffocation come together to form polygons, the immense tracks dense with shadows and multiple complexities that mark the present with an honest desire to make no concessions. Between the volcanic expressiveness of The Boys Next Door, the horror films of the early Virgin Prunes, and the kaleidoscopic dialectic of The Dresden Dolls, the trio from Macerata forms a nucleus of compositions designed to tear apart the song form in order to secure intellectual space, manoeuvring them in the context of a serious freedom that aims to limit digressions and ambitions in order to become, without doubt, a concrete universe of twists and experiments. David Lynch's ghosts create images that warm hearts and minds, a diary that expands and compacts decades of research, in immersions that translate the historical hieroglyphics of a culture that is now segregated and extinct. Shesgot don't care about pleasing, about creating silly connections of misleading contacts, and they focus on the essentials: they use piercing crossbows, contortions and intimate neuroses as probes and frames, to incorporate cognitive senses with a short, leather-bound whip, to direct these songs that are thoroughbreds of unspeakable strength and magnetic sensuality.

Continuous lunges of robust twists, with striking eclecticism, a nocturnal wandering that arises from the oppressive, circular tedium that dulls the senses to remove illusions, declaiming, rather, the marble encroachment towards paranoia and the sadness of modernity, using, in fact, ancient languages and methods, with whispers and cries worthy of Bergman, to encircle reality and diversify it. Michele Caserta's devastating distortions are welcome, with his red-hot bass in two episodes and fingers soaked in blood, and his technique and heart as precise as his breath when playing the drums, managing to take the history of the instrument and fix it in operational and eclectic extensions, making drumming a veil to protect Matteo Palmieri's magnetic explorations (on bass in seven tracks), who creates disorder, crusades, bewitched arpeggios and suspended rhythms with his guitar that make those who do not understand his infinite eclecticism waver. Together, the three wave the purple flag, turn the sky into a factory in the grip of the wind and launch slow, heavier mines in the perfect marriage between life and death, arriving at a truly liturgical aesthetic cannibalism. 

The Old Scribe  remains embedded in these powerful dialectical forms, set in continuous effervescence and stagnation, in a Dante-esque circle, with truly impressive rhythmic bursts and harmonic explorations....

It is time to try to look at this ensemble with awe and respect, because only art with a capital A can produce this effect... 

Song by Song

1 - The Hall

We enter the hall of a house set ablaze by this ghostly atmosphere, a crooning perfectly supported by misty drumming, the guitar first arpeggiated and then laminated, with dream pop but gloomy oscillations, until a vocal roar is held almost secret. A ritual to begin this new work, with an introduction that vehemently annihilates any pop pretensions. Here we walk on the acid and mellifluous side of gothic tremors...

2 - The Return

Bauhaus meets La Fura dels Baus, creating a melodic swing that seeks to unseat all fatigue. It is a sacred shell, until the change of rhythm and a guitar mantra that allows the bass and drums to elaborate a massive protection...

3 - Flames’ Night

Sweetness conceals excitement, then becomes apotheosis and neurosis, in an almost psychedelic ballad with a neo-folk flavour, in which a pagan form presents us with a witch who wanders at night, in these grooves that evoke rituals and tears perfectly lulled by voices and sounds that surround musical genres waiting...

4 - The Train

The drumming is a track and a locomotive, the bass a blackish ghost, the guitar an ancient post-punk cross and the vocals an echo of Rozz Williams and Peter Murphy with doses of Valium, making this track a rhythmic celebration of thought, through multiple references in a prodigious archive...

5 - Home

Shoegaze dawns appear, but it is a fierce illusion: here we are in the presence of a frantic search for dark and meticulous mutant perversions, a rough diamond immersed in oil, a slow, military march, duodenum and intestine being torn apart, to build melodic walls in continuous expansion, keeping the voice silent because everything has already been declared, making the movements of the guitar the only way to move us...

6 - Backseat

Killing Joke enter a deconsecrated church and hear these notes: they celebrate the sumptuous ability to show wounds on the skin, in a musical arrangement linked to a slow beginning, then breaking away and becoming a shrine where the race finds its nerves, slowing down again, while the rhythmic arrangement creates neurosis and launches into sublime corrosive flows...

7 - The Fountain

An earthquake measuring 10 on the Richter scale engulfs and disrupts the theatre in which life is played out, in fascinating and gruesome dismemberments, a detonation that knows harmony and melody while everything drools and captivates the senses through piercing guitar twists and drumming with repeated stop and go in the style of Death in June in the last century...

8 - Mark E. Smith

The exaltation of Salford's greatest genius takes place through apocalyptic perversions, in frenetic exposure, as if Manchester and The Fall had become an odyssey. A phone call between a Scottish girl, Leyre Mann Vadillo (present with her voice), and our friend Marco Sabatini, to talk about their love for the Manchester band, forms the basis of this song. It is a whirlwind of cables and spasms, with the vocals supporting the hard rhythmic work with an enchanting litany that sticks the notes to your gut.... 

9 - January's Note

This incredible work concludes with a rhythmic and harmonic avalanche, with evocative vocals and the drama of sudden lacerations, here translated and made eternal by a sonic ordeal in which the dramatic vocation of pagan liturgy will conquer many souls...

Shesgot:

Federico Palmieri - Vocals

Michele Caserta - Drums and Bass in The Hall and Mark E. Smith

Matteo Palmieri - Bass and guitars

The Macerata live line-up includes Giulia Tanoni on bass

Out 20 February 2026 on Bandcamp and SoundCloud

Available on vinyl limited edition 100 copy