Moola - S/T

A Closer Listen

Moola‘s self-titled debut emerges from a meeting of seemingly distant musical worlds that reveal themselves to be remarkably compatible. Rather than a vehicle for cultural trnslation, the duo of Renata Frana and Antonella Bianco approach sound as a space of encounter shaped by listening and intuition.

The album opens with “marut”, where a steady percussive pulse and gentle electronics gradually make room for the dilruba, the bowed North Indian instrument that serves as one of the record’s defining voices. “Forgotten Ritual” begins with field recordings and initially appears to inhabit a recognisably Indian sonic landscape, while “Bridge” drifts furthest into abstraction, unfolding as a dense drone piece where otherworldly electronic textures emerge and dissolve within its shifting interior. Later, “Awakening in Calcutta” is anchored by an alluring guitar refrain, and with “Uncover” field recordings return, bringing the album full circle.

Throughout, percussion provides the guiding force, while the dilruba punctuates the music with a voice that is at once lyrical and restrained. Yet what makes Moola intriguing is its refusal of easy exoticism or ethnographic certainty. The titles may hint at specific places, traditions, or histories, but the music consistently evades literal geographies. These are sonic suggestions rather than destinations; imaginings instead of documentary representations.

Moola reject virtuosity and grandiose gestures. Every musical action carries weight, existing in relation to what surrounds it and capable of generating further connections. The use of toys, electronics, field recordings, guitar, and dilruba never feels decorative or driven by a desire for authenticity. There is no philological impulse here, only a deep respect for traditions combined with a willingness to let sounds circulate freely between contexts.

The result is an album rooted in deep listening rather than in any single musical lineage. Like the Sanskrit word mūla from which the duo takes its name — meaning “root” — these pieces feel like the beginning of a process. Beneath the surface, connections are already spreading in multiple directions, quietly preparing for whatever may emerge next.

Through an email exchange, Renata Frana and Antonella Bianco gave us their own take on the production process for the album.

Antonella Bianco and Renata Frana – photo by Francesca Suriano

Moola feels rooted in deep listening and cultural encounter rather than in any single musical tradition. Tracks such as “Marut”, “Awakening in Calcutta” and “Scisciu” seem to evoke different geographies and histories without ever becoming straightforward ethnographic references. How do you navigate the line between inspiration, memory and imagination when drawing on sounds, places and traditions beyond your immediate experience?

Honestly, we don’t think about it too much while we’re working. For us, each piece is a room, a space that we build, and then we listen to what wants to inhabit it. Of course, the places we’ve been, what we’ve studied, where we come from—all of that finds its way in somehow; that’s inevitable. But it’s not something we deliberately set out to pursue.

The dialogue between Antonella’s electric guitar, electronics and field recordings and Renata’s dilruba, synthesizers and toys creates a fascinating balance between the ancient and the contemporary, the acoustic and the electronic. How did your different musical backgrounds shape the development of Moola, and were there particular moments during the recording process when those differences became especially productive?

The most beautiful aspect of this meeting and collaboration was the complete freedom of the compositional process. Every idea was given the chance to exist, without us deciding in advance what it might become. Recordings of Orthodox ceremonies, natural landscapes, completely chaotic environments—everything was sampled, taken apart, and reassembled according to a free-flowing process rather than a predetermined plan. We never divided things into “this is the traditional part” and “this is the electronic part.” Everything passed through the same hands.

Several pieces, particularly “Bridge” and “Forgotten Ritual”, suggest processes of transformation, passage and reconnection. The album often feels less concerned with composition in the traditional sense than with creating spaces for listening and reflection. Did you approach these tracks as narratives, rituals, sound environments, or something else entirely?

There was never really a moment when we sat down with a list saying, “this is the ritual piece” or “this is the bridge piece.” Forgotten Ritual emerged more from a feeling than from a concept: something ceremonial, yet without any actual ceremony inside it, and we liked the idea of leaving that absence open rather than filling it. Bridge is more literal; it functions as a passage, a place where you remain for a few minutes without belonging to either side. We’re less interested in explaining what it means than in conveying that feeling of suspension.

What does the name Moola mean to you, and how do you see this first release laying the foundations for where the project might go next?

Moola is simply mūla, the Sanskrit word for “root.” Renata chose it, and it immediately felt right to both of us. It is also the name of one of the Vedic constellations, under whose sign Mallikarjun Mansur (an Indian singer we deeply admire) was born. In Indian folk belief, being born under the sign of mūla is not always considered auspicious and is sometimes even associated with misfortune. Yet the fact that one of the most moving and profound voices in Indian classical music was born under that sign was enough of a good omen for us.

This record is more of a starting point than anything else. It is the first work we have produced together, after years of wanting to collaborate before finally making it happen. We had always been fascinated by each other’s world, by the way the other thought about music—worlds that, on paper, seem very far apart, yet revealed themselves to be remarkably close, almost naturally aligned, once we actually sat down and worked together, both in terms of taste and artistic vision. We are already writing new material, so this first release feels less like an arrival and more like a root growing underground before something emerges above the surface. (Gianmarco Del Re)