The tone-deaf and lazy traveler will only encounter American music and techno in Perugia, Italy--however, with a little research it is possible to uncover some rather worthwhile Italian music. The Loop café in Perugia is the hub of the local music scene. The dual personality hot spot functions as a quaint coffee shop during the day and at night it makes use of its bar, stage, and cozy atmosphere for performances (which are usually free). On Saturday the 19th the Loop hosted The Niro, an Italian band which has gained the attention of Radiohead's manager but not many Americans.

The friendly and amicable lead singer, Davide, with chestnut hair and a strong spoken Italian accent that disappears during his songs, started the project. "It's more a songwriting project," he said, "I started playing drums when I was young and then started guitar." When asked what he was influenced by he said, "I'm not really greatly influenced-but I get inspired by music in movies." In March he plans to head to the states to do a tour (visit his myspace to get updated on his latest and sample some tunes, myspace.com/theniro)

His music, which is all in English, is unlike anything in the music world today. Although some say he sounds like Jeff Buckley--the Niro are a new brand. Davide's vocal techniques are beautifully outlandish; he howls and sometimes shakes his head like a ticking time bomb to achieve the proper vibrato. The show that Saturday was more than Davide and his guitar playing. His possessed bassist felt the music in every inch of his body while playing solid bass lines. The drummer was the ultimate percussionist playing the drums, the bongos and the egg (also known as a nugget, a small, hollow globe filled with tiny beads with a sound similar to the maracas).

The greatest song of the night was not introduced in English-as a matter of fact, no one spoke English, it was only sung. The song had the most captivating concept and melodic hook, "liar, liar, liar, liar, tee hee hee hee hee hee hee heeee," the band and the crowd were connected, they knew we needed to hear it again. The bassist rocked back and forth in his chair now, the spirit inside him had gotten stronger, the drums were louder--the sound vibrations moved the floorboards. The lights changed to a furious and bloody red as Davide howled, "Liar, liar" in the crimson light. And then, it was over. An hour and the show was done; everyone lingered wanting more. People shuffled off, some stayed to converse with the band and Davide, who was sure to have a friendly conversation with anyone that was interested.