Baustelle
Fantasma

On January 29, "Fantasma," the new album by Baustelle, was released.

I positively evaluated "Amen" (2008), and I remained somewhat lukewarm with the release of "I mistici dell'Occidente" (2010); however, I find it useless to dwell on the past, as "Fantasma" has very little to do with what we've heard so far.

"Fantasma" is a concept album on the theme of Time: in the nineteen tracks of the album, Francesco Bianconi has traced a uniform and directed musical and lyrical path that guides us in a musical examination on the themes of the passage of time, the necessary transformation of things, death, and the Apocalypse. The track released as a single, "La morte (non esiste più)," in terms of musical and poetic intensity, is certainly not the best piece of the album and was probably chosen only for its catchiness: in a discographic advertising context, it was necessary for Baustelle to "make their presence felt" to the widest audience possible upon their return to the scene. The album, however, contains a treasure trove of high-level compositions, pieces with refined and introspective lyrics that no one will ever be able to sing lightly in the shower or in the car with friends, and this is not a flaw - it is the strength of this violent and elegant record.

The strength of the album lies in its being conceived as the orchestration of an improvised performance, for which the group wanted to take risks and experiment, renewing mostly their musical and compositional approach. The focused listening of "Fantasma" provides sensations that have not been delivered by Italian music for many years: the solemnity brought by Enrico Gabrielli's sumptuous arrangements for symphonic orchestra (with the addition, in some tracks, of the explosive power of the church organ of Montepulciano Stazione) to Bianconi's lyrics makes this album unlistenable as background music, even out of pure respect for the wonderful work of art that the three from Montepulciano have managed to create. "Fantasma" is to be listened to alone in the car, alone in the room with the hi-fi at sufficiently high volume, in the theater. In "Fantasma," you can feel that Baustelle has grown, a lot, also from the point of view of a personal reflective maturity that manifests itself in lyrics no longer adolescent-dreamlike as they used to be. This "mature" approach, which didn't arrive with "I mistici dell'Occidente," sees its consecration in this new album, which, in my opinion, can be confidently included among the greatest albums of recent Italian music.

Bianconi has finally found the courage to be a songwriter for real. The result is majestic: the album discusses the drama of concentration camps viewed through the eyes of composer Olivier Messiaen ("Il Finale"), the destructive power of the passage of life ("Il futuro"), love. And the Maya, the hoped-for extinction of the human race, Montale.

Rachele Bastreghi lights up the vocal parts of the album with performances so refined and sweet as to create a deliberate and elegant contrast with Bianconi's increasingly deeper voice. Claudio Brasini on guitar provides curious insights: in "Maya colpisce ancora," he inserts, in an essentially gloomy track, a surf electric guitar refrain that turns it into an ironic pre-apocalyptic cocktail party prayer. In my opinion, and by now you will have understood my judgment of the album, genius understandings.

Further commenting on this album and the lyrics of the pieces would be like writing footnote paraphrasing of a poem, as used in school books: I don't see the need. Like a poetry collection, "Fantasma" should be evaluated individually based on the emotions it elicited. And, believe me, it does evoke emotions.

Do not be scared by the terrifying instrumental breaks or by the gentle "L'orizzonte degli eventi."