"I don’t understand Bernardino. He seems to take pleasure in sabotaging himself."

"Or maybe I’m simply refusing to play the game someone else wrote for me?"

Memoirs of Self-Sabotage unfolds as a musical drift: fragments written and recorded on tour between France and Italy, shaped by precariousness, administrative tension, loss, and paranoia. The tracks emerge like scenes from a psychological film noir—a distorted discotheque of monologues, songs, skits, and anachronisms—where the voice oscillates between seduction and rupture.At its core lies a troubling insight: the most insidious exploitation is that of one’s own intimacy. As emotions and desires become commodities, the project resists absorption. Each track becomes a site of desertion—refusing roles, codes, and systems of control, even those posing as critique. Alliances blur, betrayals loom; lucidity tips into paranoia.Warped echoes of nostalgia, cinematic layers, voices in tension: the music becomes an unstable space, a laboratory of drift and survival. Neither record, manifesto, nor autobiography, it unfolds as a mental disco where desire, fear, and self-sabotage coexist.