Banco del Mutuo Soccorso
Nudo

Music at newsstands has always been a constant in Italy. Since the '70s, newsstand editions of records released in stores have allowed entire generations to enjoy a lot of good music at affordable prices. For some years now, we have been witnessing the return of vinyl, even in newsstands. De Agostini is concluding the publications of a beautiful collection dedicated to blues, curated by Fabio Treves, and (in collaboration with Corriere della Sera) has launched a collection dedicated to Italian progressive music. Beautiful 180-gram vinyls reissued with all the trimmings at a reasonable price. The first 20 announced releases represent a small compendium of that musical phenomenon that was prog in Italy, capable of attracting admirers from all over the world and perhaps the last (or only) serious export phenomenon (no offense to Pupo and Toto Cutugno, much loved by the Russians) expressed by our country.

Pfm, early Battiato, New Trolls, Area, Le Orme, Osanna... Of course, Banco del Mutuo Soccorso couldn't be missing. A Roman band led by one of the most iconic figures of the movement, that Francesco Di Giacomo who left us in 2014 during the Sanremo Festival. Their debut album, eponymously titled but known as Il Salvadanaio, has hit the newsstands. An incredible record, already reviewed with a deserved 5 stars on Debaser. But just twenty years ago, the atmosphere of the record market in Italy was entirely different. Vinyls seemed prehistoric, and bands like Banco del Mutuo Soccorso were widely extinct dinosaurs, killed by the Darwinian evolution of music, they who had dedicated their second album to Darwin.

Like many other progressive groups, the band had tried to survive the years of decline by changing skin. They drastically shortened their name, from Banco del Mutuo Soccorso to Banco, and delivered some song-driven albums (in the noble sense of the term). No more long and baroque 10 or 20-minute suites but songs with radio appeal. The first song of theirs that I personally heard was "Paolo Pa," taken from Urgentissimo, an album from 1980 that got decent radio play and was followed by another series of commercial pop albums: Buone Notizie in 1981, Banco in 1983, and …e via in 1985. But at the start of the 1990s, something began to change.

There was talk of reissues and enthusiasts became interested in the '70s progressive scene. So much so that, at the behest of the band's pianist Vittorio Nocenzi, the band re-recorded their first two albums anew with more modern solutions. A unique choice. Not a reissue but a revision. The collection La storia in 1993 and the new album Il 13 in 1994 thus opened the way to the record we (finally) begin to discuss. A double CD, the first studio-recorded and the second live. The studio CD was opened by an unpublished track, a three-movement suite that gives the album its title: "Nudo," indeed. The rest of the CD was composed of some historic tracks recorded at the Ribes Studio in Genzano on April 13 and 14, 1997. The album was released by EMI Italiana at the end of 1997. As mentioned, the second CD was instead the result of a tour in Japan; it's well-known that the Japanese are always rediscovering things, as the mockumentary The Spinal Tap teaches us.

The band resumed their full name and also the desire to propose more complex tracks and old successes. A double CD contributing to the rebirth of Italian progressive, which in the 2000s would see a series of famous reissues and unexpected returns, and in fact the last album containing an unreleased piece by the band composed with Di Giacomo alive. The live tracks are recorded between Japan and Italy. Specifically "La conquista della posizione eretta," "Metamorfosi," "Guardami le spalle," and "Roma/Tokyo" come from the Japanese concerts on May 25 and 26, 1997, while "Bisbigli," "Passaggio," "Coi capelli sciolti al vento," and "Traccia" come from a concert at the Ciclodromo in Padova in September 1995. It is, however, the studio unreleased piece that captures attention.

A suite in three parts, about 13 minutes long, that showed the characteristics that made the group famous in the '70s, symphonic and pompous scores, but also a new rock texture that blended well, especially with the beautiful and distinctive voice of Di Giacomo who sings a truly remarkable text. The re-recordings of some great classics are beautiful, among all "750 mila anni fa l'amore," which becomes a poignant piano and voice ballad that tears the soul with a text that tells the story of an impossible love at the time of evolution.

The live part shows a band in full form, nicely rearranging old tracks without distorting them. The album was also released in a single version for the international market, mixing re-recorded and live tracks. From there, a brief second youth began for Banco. I saw them live in that period at the Idroscalo in Milan, in stunning form. No new songs recorded, but a good live album for the band's thirtieth anniversary, No palco, with a fair share of illustrious guests celebrating with them such as: Morgan, Mauro Pagani, Federico Zampaglione, Eugenio Finardi, Filippo Gatti, Angelo Branduardi.

Unfortunately, between 2014 and 2015, a series of bereavements and illnesses slowed down their history. On February 21, as already mentioned, a car accident took away Francesco Di Giacomo; on July 29, 2015, a cerebral hemorrhage hit Vittorio Nocenzi (who had published Un'idea che non puoi fermare in September 2014). On October 3, 2015, after a long illness, Rodolfo Maltese also passed away. Rumors swirl of new members joining the lineup like John de Leo and Maurizio Solieri. The group seems on the verge of returning, with a recent re-release of Io sono nato libero. The band lineup changes are also at the center of the beautiful book Il Solista, by Nino Antonaccio, which tells the story of Marcello Todaro, guitarist of the first two albums. Nudo is undoubtedly a watershed and, in my opinion, the last great testament of one of the founding bands of Italian progressive.