Banco del Mutuo Soccorso
Orlando: Le Forme dell'Amore

"Leave your hippogriff's reins loose, O Astolfo," thus begins the musical adventure of Banco del Mutuo Soccorso. Who doesn't remember the debut "In Volo"? And so, 50 years after the release of that masterpiece, the founder Vittorio Nocenzi ideally reconnects with Ariosto to birth the ambitious project of condensing the masterpiece of the great poet from Emilia, published in Ferrara just over half a millennium ago, into a concept of over 75 minutes.

The famous "Salvadanaio" profoundly impacted our music at its release, and the same is envisaged with "Orlando, le forme dell'Amore," and in my opinion, it succeeds fully. In a few words, we are once again faced with a true Masterpiece, reminiscent of the listening pleasure of another remarkable work by Banco: "...di Terra." Certainly, I am writing about works unsuitable for those accustomed to Gigi D'Alessio or attracted to the rap rhythms so trendy today. I write this with respect, the same respect I ask for "Orlando," which can be considered the musical summa of Nocenzi, who, now over seventy, releases one of the most beautiful prog albums ever on the national scene. Congratulations to the great musician!

Am I exaggerating? The future will tell... Certainly, the effort to reproduce the tales of "Orlando Furioso" was not simple, but the result is convincing. Nocenzi manages to perfectly reproduce the eternal and irreconcilable contrast between War and Love, the unfortunate relationship between Orlando and the beautiful Angelica, which represents the central core of the album in the tracks "Il Paladino" and "L'Amore accade": declaration of love by Orlando in the first, gentle refusal by Angelica in the second, which I would say is unique in the Italian progressive scene, given the sweet interpretation by Viola Nocenzi, and it couldn't be otherwise given the ungrateful role played. And so, our hero, after fighting against the infidel Saracens ("Serve Orlando adesso") and saving the maiden from trouble ("Non serve tremare"), finds himself with a dismissal that drives him mad, especially since Angelica ends up infatuated with none other than Medoro, Orlando's enemy in many battles ("Come è successo che sei qui"). To this, he vents with his comrade-in-arms "Astolfo" (the one with the hippogriff), expressing his anger in Carlo Micheli's saxophone in "Non credere alla Luna"; Astolfo, moved, sets off for our satellite in search of the friend's sanity, and thus begins the related "Moon Suite" of 11 minutes, composed of 3 rather articulated movements that in themselves would already be worth the price of admission.

I will spare the reader a track-by-track description of the album, though each track deserves attention such is the wealth of variations and musical nuances offered by the author in a perfect progressive site. I have limited myself to the substance, leaving you to discover the quality of this work that naturally, at various moments, recalls movements from past works of Banco (particularly their first four), naturally rearranged, revised, and enriched. The sung storyline is then fully reproduced in the booklet, even translated into English, as was done in the good old days, perhaps contrary; this shows that unlike many prog works where the text is relatively important, in this case, it is indeed essential!

I conclude by emphasizing the excellent acoustic rendering of the double vinyl, not exactly affordably priced but indispensable. I note the graphic perfectly "aligned" with that of the Roman group and underline the undeniable qualities of all the members of the current lineup, with particular reference to Tony D'Alessio, who has the ungrateful task, in my opinion, successfully succeeding the unforgettable Francesco Di Giacomo. Finally, I hope that in the upcoming concerts (first among which is the one in Florence next month), Banco will show courage and draw extensively from this album!