Alex Britti
it.pop

It seems that this super guitarist from Rome has finally gotten fed up with making Italian pop. The man is no longer young (57), he’s had his share of satisfaction and, after his early days hustling around Europe followed by quite a few years of decent success in Italy, his bank account should be comfortably in order by now. His son is growing up—he’s now a young boy—but Alex lives alone; he’s an only child of a troubled father (bipolar disorder), so he learned from a young age how to be alone, and even take pleasure in it. His skill with the guitar also comes from this: all those hours spent with only music to keep him company…

He’s been to Sanremo far too many times, and was a regular at De Filippi’s and Costanzo’s shows... what a drag! That’s why I’ve always more or less avoided him, never dug deeper, and have never even seen one of his concerts. What a shame… my mistake; he’s a brilliant musician and just needed to be understood, he was after real success and fully realized that backing Ray Charles or B.B.King when they came to play in Italy wouldn’t get him anywhere meaningful.

He himself sings about this reasoning, very openly, in “Gelido,” the opening track of this debut album. “Faccio pop italiano,” he intones, implying that he’d rather play something else but you pay the bills more easily with catchy tunes, so let’s get on with it! Even the album’s title is a whole statement in itself.

And so his career, his records from this point onwards (this is from 1998), have always swung between light, crowd-pleasing tracks and “fillers” which are actually the noble part of his talent, where he lets loose on the guitar with his perfect and vigorous jazz-blues imprint. An interesting choice, too, to opt for years and exclusively for the acoustic guitar, mastered with an enviable level of swagger and control, combined with a deep sophistication in harmony and rhythm.

Expressing quality, musical intellect, and even virtuosity within the realm of the Italian pop song is a complex and delightful exercise. Sometimes he manages it brilliantly and the most striking example is the stand-out track of this album, the single “Oggi sono io,” which fully embodies the tricky blend of our own pop with Afro-American jazz blues. The less attentive listeners will catch the catchiness of the track, the momentum of the refrain; to the more passionate and savvy ones, like me and generally those who frequent this site, the absolute quality and brilliance of the guitar work, the dynamics, the elegance, the substance, are also crystal clear.

Not everything works perfectly: Britti is a prodigious guitarist, but a mediocre singer. At least, he was at the time of these recordings. He can’t replicate with his voice the incredible shadings and nuances, as the English say, that pour effortlessly from his instrument. Still, he tries—he’s a very sophisticated musician, he knows what the greats are capable of, and if his vocal performance here is still nothing special, his spirit and approach are spot on.

Lately, Britti has therefore, more or less, been riding the wave of playing and producing whatever he wants, but above all, he’s gone back to constantly wielding an electric guitar. During his concerts, you can sometimes catch him covering Jimi Hendrix at astral, almost embarrassing, levels.

I’m glad that the Italian scene can count on a talent like his who, despite having once chosen to make tough compromises with the Italian trend in order to make a splash, possesses a truly international caliber in terms of composition, harmonization, and intuition.

The best tracks of this album stack up toward the end, when Alex pretty much lets go of the pop tunes—all slotted at the start—along with the dance beats and trendy rap touches, and instead starts making the kind of music that truly belongs to him. His blues and jazz, instead of just peeking through here and there, take center stage; his rare six-string dexterity unfolds; his music becomes less easily marketable, but nobler and more appreciated by those in the know.

Let’s make do and carry on. There’s no point in being a blind anglophile; let’s take what we have of value around here. Sure, it’s not a lot, but honestly, lately things aren’t much better in America or England either.