Franco Battiato’s first few albums – particularly Fetus and Pollution – have rightly come to represent Italian progressive rock amongst its most experimental and absurdist. But there’s so much more going on here than just random experiment: with Fetus, you can hear shadowings of Battiato’s later, more minimalist/experimental phase, particularly in his ongoing returns to a mysterious, tangled melody for synth. The songs sound, sometimes, like they’re about to break into full prog indulgence, but something keeps them in check – see the rattling middle section of “Energia,” which has the same unbridled enthusiasm and rhythmic churn as the Velvets-inspired early Can. There are lush miniatures for voice and acoustic guitar; tear-stroked tunes ringing out over spongy synthesis (“Una cellula”); folksy melodies for violin; slapstick comedy moments – it’s all over the place, but gloriously so.