Luca Perciballi's "Sacred Habits" is a sonic journey that defies easy categorization: a noise album, an improvisational exploration, an initiation rite, and a test of endurance, all rolled into one. Released by Kohlhaas, a label known for its unyielding commitment to experimental music, this album is not merely a collection of tracks; it’s a visceral experience that demands full immersion.

From the moment the opening track, "Sacred Habits I", kicks off, you’re plunged into a world where the guitar is not just an instrument but a living, breathing entity. Perciballi coaxes out its voice in ways that are as unsettling as they are fascinating. The guitar stutters, growls, and occasionally, it almost seems to beg for mercy under Perciballi’s hands. His approach is raw, physical, and unashamedly confrontational, echoing the sentiment from Francesco Cigana and Luca Perciballi's previous collaborations in "Empires" with Maorooro, where sound is not just heard but felt in your bones.

There’s a physicality to Perciballi’s music that is both exhausting and exhilarating. His use of foot percussion adds an extra layer of grit. It’s as if the sounds are being dragged out from the depths of the earth, kicking and screaming all the way. The interplay between the guitar and the percussive elements is particularly striking in tracks like "Sacred Habits IV" and "Sacred Habits VII", where the boundaries between instrument and player, between sound and silence, blur into a cacophony that is both chaotic and eerily controlled.

Other reviewers have noted the album's ability to swing between extremes, and it’s true: "Sacred Habits" veers from the primal to the almost ethereal, sometimes within the span of a single track. There are moments where Perciballi’s guitar screams in a feedback loop of frustration, only to settle into a delicate, almost fragile melody moments later. This juxtaposition of brutality and beauty is perhaps most evident in "Sacred Habits IX", where what begins as a near-punishing wall of noise slowly gives way to something more introspective, as if the music itself is pausing to catch its breath.

The album is a meditation on tension, both musical and emotional. There’s a sense of danger that lurks beneath the surface, a feeling that at any moment, the fragile balance Perciballi has constructed could come crashing down. And yet, that’s precisely what makes "Sacred Habits" so compelling. It’s an album that dares you to stay with it, to ride out the storms of sound, and to find the moments of stillness within the chaos.

At times, "Sacred Habits" evokes the sensation of being caught in a fever dream, where the boundaries between reality and hallucination blur. There are hints of vaporous free-jazz, echoes of Middle Eastern and North African modalities, and even moments of what can only be described as an exorcism of the guitar’s demons. It’s a restless album, one that refuses to settle into any one genre or mood for long. Yet, it’s precisely this unpredictability that keeps you on edge, waiting to see what Perciballi will throw at you next.

For all its rough edges, "Sacred Habits" is also a deeply personal album. It feels like a window into Perciballi’s own psyche, a place where the artist’s inner turmoil is given form through sound. The final track, "Sacred Habits XI", is a fitting conclusion to this journey - a summation of all that has come before, and a final, cathartic release.

In a live setting, one can only imagine the impact of this music. It’s a primal ritual, a shared experience of sound as something sacred and profane, raw and refined, violent and tender.