The 60s grow, mature, and with them, those same ideals that in the following decade will find fertile ground. The same blind, bleak, and grim ideals that at any moment will explode without leaving anything concrete. The 70s carry the weight of those sublimated ideologies and consequently, a turbulent and whirlwind period filled with intellectual deaths and generational massacres follows. Witnesses are the Italian singer-songwriters who sing, photograph, and film that period with extreme detail from north to south, each in their personal manner. They become the spokespersons of those discontents, illusions, and hopes that permeate society. They do it together with cohesion and participation; their works communicate, meet, and intertwine.

The precursor of all this is a certain Francesco Guccini who in 1965 will give life to the so-called "canzone impegnata" with "Dio è morto". Exactly 10 years later, an album sees the light which distinctly divides -chronologically and not- a period, a man, an artist. Lilly, the fourth studio album by a young Roman singer-songwriter named Venditti, is released.

Only 7 songs:

"L’amore non ha padroni," a non-love song dedicated to his then-wife Simona Izzo where ideals prevail over sickly sentimentalism, a song that represents the breaking point of the couple.

"Liberi di dirci tutto quello che pensiamo noi
E non importa certo se ci amiamo o no
Quando le stelle illuminano il silenzio
Il silenzio delle idee."

In “Attila e la stella” and “Santa Brigida” one of the predominant elements of Venditti’s poetry, Rome and the Romans, of which Venditti along with Franco Califano is a standard-bearer, returns

Chauvinism here dresses up as historical narration, with the advance of the Huns in the city. It will turn out to be one of the most beautiful dedications to the eternal city.

"Leone levò il calice al cielo
E fu per ignoranza o per sfortuna
Che questa stella figlio è ancora a Roma."

In the second one, Venditti “steals pure rubies from the pockets” of a friend/enemy, Santa Lucia is followed by Santa Brigida, a prayer in dialect that recalls an ancient popular theme.

"Santa Brigida mia divina
Nun fa' piover alle castagne
Nun fa' piover alle castagne
O sole che nasci povero
Illumina 'sta terra"

"Penna a sfera" is a not very venomous but very ironic and satirical invective against the press that yesterday as today refers to scandal and sterile polemics. It was born after an article written by journalist Enzo Caffarelli, who criticized Venditti and De Gregori's failure to adhere to typically leftist ideals. The interview will later cost De Gregori a “popular trial” at the Palalido in Milan.

"Per gli amici solamente penna a sfera
Il tuo nome è diventato una bandiera."

"Lilly" is a desperate scream, a shattered hope, is the fragility of the naive. Lilly lives through memory, through various images made of travels and studies. Lived on Venditti’s own skin, it represents the most intense, painful, wrenching Italian song ever written on drugs, recounting with meticulousness and an emotion never rhetorical, the most intimate devastation of addiction which primarily concerns feelings, relationships, and affections. Lilly ultimately represents the death of an entire generation.

"Quale treno ora?
Quale libro ora?
Quale amore ora mi ti potrà ridare?
"

In "Compagno di scuola" whether it's desks or trenches it matters little, during and after '68 there isn't a moment of respite. Venditti actively participates in those protests and revolts, managing to describe contrasts and disillusionments of an entire generation. A song about the evolution of who we are and who we have beside us, about the inevitability of separations. On who preserves the ideal and who sells it out.

The clear division of ideals that were slowly fading

"Dove Nietzsche e Marx si davano la mano."

Where subversiveness bends to an inevitable greed

"Ti sei salvato o sei entrato in banca pure tu?"

Finally, we find "Lo stambecco ferito" a piece so great, so transcendental that it certainly deserves a separate review.

Only 7 tracks that represent the sum of a period, a thought, a man and an artist, the highest peak that he will never be able to reach again. Lilly represents a milestone within the Italian singer-songwriter discography. An album that is heartfelt, historical, committed, inspired, and complete from every point of view.

Venditti must be recognized for the peculiarity of being the most chameleon-like among all Italian singer-songwriters, with an adaptation capability out of the ordinary: angry and passionate in the 70s, clever and disengaged in the following decade where he will fully embrace the "period of reflux" proposing works entirely mediocre compared to his early ones.

He will leave us with a song named "Modena," it will be enough for him to read a small ad within a newspaper: <<Coca Cola presents festa dell’Unita>>.

Italy will change forever, Venditti will change forever, the glow of that comet guiding him eastwards is now languid, it is fading and so:

Ma cos’è questa nuova paura che ho?
Ma cos’è questa voglia di uscire e andare via?

After that 1979, a certain Antonello will take his place, capable of filling entire stadiums and firmly remaining in the top spots of the charts, something that wasn’t much to Venditti’s liking.

It is a circular story made of many questions and few answers:

"Ciao uomo, dove vai?
Balli nel cuore del nostro universo,
Ma alla fine della tua storia
Piangi d'angoscia dentro di te

Non ho paura d'andare lontano
Oltre il sipario che copre la scena"

In the end, with the curtain down, the disappointed and defeated audience is left with one question:

"Where has the bold courage of a songwriter gone?"

Loading comments  slowly