Alex Britti
.23

The intriguing thing about encountering an artist like Britti is that, knowing his innate guitar skills, one always hopes he might make that fabled step forward toward an album that is finally mature.
This time, the opportunity was significant: 4 years of silence, a well-played album in between (Unplugged MTV), and now an exhaustive series of hits, summer and otherwise, behind him.

None of this.
From the title alone, the album shows evident innovative and conceptual flaws: .23 because Britti, born on the 23rd (of a long-ago Roman August), would have finally understood that one should focus on "oneself."
Really unconvincing. Almost comical.
The album - recorded in analog, and played by musicians who know their stuff - has many flaws, both in the melodies (the refrain of Buona Fortuna is more like a low-grade nursery rhyme) and in the attempted antitheses (amico lontanissimo / che stai vicino a me).
The bright part of the album is largely given by the guitar of the Roman musician (the harmonic change in "Piove" is at least noteworthy, as is the final solo in "Buona Fortuna"), along with the concluding track of the album and the 3 refined lyrics by Roberto Kunstler (already author for Cammariere).

Unconvincing, finally, is the cover of Bruno Martino, "Estate".
In a moment when the cover seems the only way to happiness, I dearly wish that the likes of Martino, Modugno, Bindi, Tenco, Ciampi, and all the other gentlemen of Italian music, were left in peace.
This is certainly not the best way to honor and remember them.

Playing with the word Cover, I would like to say a few words about the album cover: it's hideous.
It looks like it was thrown together in half a day, with clippings of forgotten photos.
But is it possible that to include something in a booklet one must force oneself to dress up and take pathetic pictures - all the same - that have nothing to do with the artist in question, the album they belong to, or anything seriously valuable?

An album is the statue of a sculptor.
Meticulous details make the album something artistically valuable, conceptually alive.
Taking photos just because, revisiting old pieces (those by Kunstler, Britti has been playing and singing since the early '90s) and including covers to be snobbish or because it's trendy to pay tribute to the sixties: well, this is not making an album.
An important album too; important because money is spent on it. No, big money.

Oh! If other artists had (had) this money to create an album, who knows what we would be listening to today...

Britti has written remarkable things in his career.
He could become a good singer-songwriter, the ingredients are there: he plays well, and is also dirty just enough; he has a voice that is not irritating; he is immune to unpleasant musical similarities with other artists; he possesses an artist's sensitivity; and every so often, he even writes distinguished things.

But when will he stop fooling us?