Banco del Mutuo Soccorso
Donna Plautilla

Released in 1989, the album contains material twenty years old, perhaps (?) with the intention of galvanizing the now disillusioned (and, in some ways, rightly pissed off) prog purists.

The times of the debuting Salvadanaio are conceptually and chronologically distant, Di Giacomo has not yet joined the group, and our young and fresh musicians present a raw blend: established yet not stale beat, with some timid hints at the radiant future. Despite the effort, the lead voice, entrusted to Vittorio Nocenzi, does not emerge from anonymity, and the songs, overall, suffer from it.

From an overtly beat approach ("Ed io canto", "Cantico") they immediately transit through intermediate paths, where clumsy but courageous attempts to reconcile two extremes ("Piazza dell’Oro", "Mille Poesie") give way to sudden retreats toward the tried-and-true ("Un Giorno di Sole") or amusing and entertaining episodes ("Bla, bla, bla").

But in this chaotic context, in a sort of nebula neither beat nor prog, there are also more mature and prophetic insights, and between organ raids ("E luce fu") and pseudo-suites ("Mille Poesie 2"), we reach the track that gives the entire album its name, an instrumental and frantic ride that best expresses an explosiveness still in its infancy: that perfect and orchestrated bickering between organ, piano, and flute that would become an acclaimed trademark for an entire era.

All in all, a good attempt, but we are still in 1969, and the dish is not yet ready. The lineup, after all, is not "classic" but primordial, in fact, it includes the Nocenzi brothers, Fabrizio and Claudio Falco, Franco Portecorvi. A few more years of cooking, that pinch of extra salt (among the various crystals, the unmistakable voice of Francesco Di Giacomo), and then off, everyone gorging at the progressive banquet.