Antonio Adolfo hated his 1972 solo debut. Intensely. He banned it from his official discography and denounced it whenever it resurfaced online. Yet the slightly off singing may be exactly what gives the self-titled LP its charm: there’s a Robert Wyatt or Scott Walker quality to Adolfo’s naturally dramatic timbre, with little bent edges creating tension against the jazz-inflected solos, basslines and gently cinematic arrangements. The result is a strange, beautiful record its creator wanted forgotten.