Adriano Pappalardo
Oh! Era Ora

In the general whirl of reviews, ratings, and opinions, we often talk about albums that are light years away from our history and musical culture, in which perhaps only a minimal part of the readers end up taking an interest. After all, five thousand reviews are not a large enough number to justify the presence, with a good probability percentage, of any album that comes to mind. And so often, in this whirlwind of writings about albums, the indispensable and the superfluous end up in the mix.

"Oh! Era Ora" is an unusual album because it is unknown and essential. Unknown because it costs five euros. Essential because it marked the main artistic turning point of a great songwriter, the definitive vocation to "canzonetta" of a poet, and the end of the career of one of the most underrated Italian singers. When we add that the album is also a great record, the picture becomes rather interesting. "Oh! Era Ora" was written with six hands. The lyrics are of a then-unknown Pasquale Panella, the music of Adriano Pappalardo, and the arrangements, perhaps something more, of a certain Lucio Battisti. The context is the '80s: use of synthesizers, timid hints of sampling, and affected instrumentation. However, the work is intrinsically experimental; after all, Battisti seeks in this experience the artistic path he would definitively embark on a few years later, and Panella, with his writing, imbues a novelty in the expressiveness of words destined to influence future generations. The music is often chaotic and resonant with sounds, while the lyrics are ironic, biting, and profound. Nothing readily available at the time, as is the case today. Starting with "Signorina", an almost dance piece, one senses that even the usual theme of falling in love is no longer the same: "Sfiorare un'acqua svizzera, darle del lei, quell'acqua d'occhi esteri, darle del lei, mi sparivi, tra le stesse dita sue, mi rovini, io mi lascio lavorare e lascio fare.". In "Breve La Vita Felice" the themes become more serious, improbable vignettes are the occasion to reiterate the essence of attachment to life of which the performer, in the song in question, seems indeed to give his best. "Caroline e l’Uomo Nero" is instead a reflection on music, characterized by a disturbing look at the relationship between singers and the public, where a hypothetical insidious and manipulative force seems to emerge from the simple listening to a record. "Questa Storia" is a farewell to a friend, a masterpiece of sweetness and intensity, with a chilling refrain: "Sì, questo è lui, ci ho preso insieme il meglio sole, ma solo lui, se lo rubava svelto come un melone". An incipit reminiscent of U2's "With or Without You" introduces "Io Chi è", an incredible digression on body and soul, where an absolutely convincing Pappalardo takes on a hypothetical "him," a guest of his body, who seems to live an autonomous existence compared to his.

"Oh! Era Ora" is Pappalardo's last studio album, the last external collaboration of Lucio Battisti, and the first meeting between Battisti and Panella, followed three years later by the first of the white albums "Don Giovanni", a work that evidently finds its roots in this experience.

De Gregori, after listening to "Don Giovanni", stated that the way of writing music would never be the same. Perhaps he was exaggerating, but I believe if he had listened to "Oh! Era Ora" he would have said it three years earlier.