Banco del Mutuo Soccorso
Il 13

After a full 9 years since the release of the disappointing twelfth studio album by Banco del Mutuo Soccorso, "Il 13" is released, with a title that is not particularly creative but is very promising, at least in Anglo-Saxon culture. Many things have changed in these nearly two decades leading up to '94: to begin with, the record company, CBS, is likely complicit, if not the architect, of the Roman group's decline and subjugation to the dominant pop rule of the '80s, culminating in Banco's participation at San Remo '85 with the song "Grande Joe", which was later included in the CD "....e via".

This would already be good news in itself, except that "Sol & Dereb Records" certainly won't be able to guarantee our heroes the same distribution support, and thus this CD's circulation will inevitably be quite limited, providing few resources to the artists and, for example, making the CD in question practically impossible to find today with no prospects of a reprint soon. The lineup also has to face further defections; after Gianni Nocenzi, Giovanni Colaiacono leaves as well, here replaced by Tiziano Ricci and Pierluigi Calderoni, still present in a couple of tracks, replaced by David Sabiu and then Maurizio Masi on a permanent basis. Alright, even this happens, but in the end, how does the album turn out?

Well! It indeed starts with a nice introduction by Vittorio Nocenzi: "Dove non arrivano gli occhi," which, given the posthumous release of "The Endless River," seems almost like a tribute to Richard Wright's contemporary work, launching one of the album's strong tracks: "Sirene" in two parts, the first very rhythmic and supported with grit (finally) by Francesco Di Giacomo and instrumentally closed by Nocenzi in the second, with a very commendable intervention by the polyphonic choir "Terribili," decidedly surpassing those insipid and annoyingly repetitive ones from "...e via." The introduction to "Brivido" is also very good, still very "Pink Floyd oriented," indeed, it almost seems as if Nocenzi and company paid a visit to Abbey Road Studios where "The Division Bell" was being completed, and once the speculation is surpassed, Di Giacomo's performance, in a state of grace supported by the previous choral backing, is to be appreciated. "Guardami le Spalle" leaves even more room for Nocenzi and the choir, which, with the support of the excellent Calderoni on a quick visit to the group, produces a decent pop piece, which preludes to the excellent "Anche Dio," richly embellished with Nocenzi's keyboards and Hammond, with a compelling dark rhythm that finally makes me think of Banco's redemption!

Indeed, even the subsequent "Pi-ppò," despite being a clearly pop song, is captivating and well-arranged, intending to close melodiously with a piano touch by Nocenzi, but unfortunately, it still leaves room for the main chorus. The song "Bambino" is very beautiful when Di Giacomo’s voice, supported by a gorgeous meditative layer created by Nocenzi’s keyboards, is then released greatly in a notable crescendo, followed by Nocenzi's good "rock test," who remains (excuse the pun) the protagonist of the subsequent and meditative "Rimani fuori": two fairly drinkable pieces that nevertheless leave room and even have the merit of enhancing: "Emiliano," the instrumental track, in my opinion the best of the CD, with Nocenzi's "Emerson-like" start and no offense to the poor Keith, but here Vittorio truly gives his all and with Maltese's effective support realizes a splendid evocative fuga reminiscent in some parts of the 1st ELP, an unforgettable masterpiece from '70. It's a pity this gem has such a limited duration and gives way to "Mister Rabbit," more suited to a radio ad than to an album by the great Banco; and indeed it closes with the search for a different station, which materializes in "Magari che" of quite another level with Di Giacomo once again at the top, something confirmed by "Tirami una rete," albeit with a decidedly more subdued tone and vocal and piano support by Vittorio, with very beautiful acoustic guitar phrases by Maltese as well. A brief and quite melancholic solo piano conclusion by Vittorio Nocenzi could hint that this will be the last studio album, at least one that can be fully defined as such, of one of (if not the most) major Italian modern music groups.

Despite this, upon releasing this work, Banco will embark on a triumphant world tour that will touch four continents and will represent their well-deserved planetary consecration, particularly in Japan where they ended up being loved and followed as much as in their homeland. As for "13," the positive judgment is hardly in doubt, though the minimalist graphics, consistent with the limited resources of the new record company, raise some questions.