EmaZamboni and the Bontempi Fiasco

EmaZamboni delves into the absurdity of Facebook Marketplace in Italy, especially when it comes to finding musical instruments. While he’s always on the lookout for a hidden gem like a Yamaha CS80 being sold for peanuts, more often than not, he encounters the widespread presence of Bontempi products. This ‘cursed brand,’ as he calls it, dominates the marketplace with their notorious keyboards. Originating in 1937, Bontempi initially garnered respect for their accordions and wind organs but later shifted to toy keyboards in the 1970s. These instruments, affectionately deemed ‘shitty,’ flood the market, much to the chagrin of serious musicians. Despite their questionable quality, some have gained a cult following for circuit bending due to their mod-friendly nature. It’s a saga of decline emblematic of late-stage capitalism, where the Bontempi brand finds itself plastered on a bewildering array of cheap replica instruments.

In a delightfully bizarre twist, EmaZamboni stumbles upon a Bontempi keyboard lurking in a supermarket dumpster. Recalling his unexpected discovery at Lidl, he picks up the discarded Bontempi 154905, a model as forgettable as its design. Despite its questionable origins, he decides to give it another chance. As he sets up to explore the instrument, he reveals a humorous side note: every time viewers see a top-down shot, he’s not wearing trousers—a nod to the informal nature of his creative space. Examining the keyboard, it’s immediately clear why it was tossed out. The keys are virtually unplayable, requiring immediate modification just to secure them. This involves some makeshift ingenuity, employing packaging tape to stabilise the structure. Inside, he finds a barrage emptiness—no surprise given its bargain bin origins—all orchestrated by a single minuscule chip. What follows is a hilariously frustrating account of a keyboard that was never meant to survive.

EmaZamboni embarks on an adventure through the Bontempi’s limited soundscapes, leading to an almost comical symphony of errors. Starting with keys that flex like rubber under the slightest touch, he quickly realises that the keyboard doubles more effectively as a percussive maraca. Despite his efforts, pressing the keys often leads to nothing more than a haunting silence, a testament to the instrument’s inept design. Every sound it produces borders on parody, with classical songs butchered beyond recognition. Interestingly, the rhythms of this model, while half-baked, occasionally surprise with a nostalgic charm akin to retro gaming soundtracks. Yet, this charm is rapidly overshadowed by the relentless frustration of keys not registering, rendering any attempt at musical creation an uphill battle. Ironically, it’s the two functions—sustain and vibrato—that offer the slightest redemption, injecting a touch of character into the otherwise abysmal audio assault.

Bringing this madcap journey to a close, EmaZamboni valiantly attempts to craft music using nothing but the Bontempi’s lacklustre capabilities. Despite the challenges, he manages to string together a tune, showcasing a commendable level of perseverance. It’s a testament to his dedication that he assembles something listenable from such an otherwise laughable tool. The process, as he shares, was fraught with retakes and a battle against the instrument’s own limitations. He reflects on the quirks of its functions, including a bizarre record feature that negates timing without a metronome, only adding to the absurdity of the task. As the video wraps up, EmaZamboni candidly shares insights into his creative haven, packed to the rafters with similarly peculiar gear. It’s a space where he melds passion with humour, inviting viewers to appreciate the chaotic beauty found in even the most ‘terrible’ instruments. His sign-off leaves us pondering the joy of making music, even when the odds—and the instruments—aren’t in our favour.