Baustelle
La malavita

Baustelle have grown up. They no longer tell stories of teenagers getting their first taste of sex, love, friendship, and social reality. They have grown and speak of an adult world, corrupt, no longer free and carefree like youth, but one that must conform to rigid, strict rules. But I hope this concept of "growth" is not self-referential since signing with a major label inevitably involves compromises which often lead to structural changes within the group that could prove harmful to the music they want to produce.

Unfortunately, my review comes late. I have listened to this new Baustelle album (available at a reduced price) over and over, and initially, it did not convince me (just as I am still not fully convinced by the first two), or rather, it convinced me just slightly more than the first two. But this is the beauty of Baustelle's pop. It is not simple pop, disposable, or something you can throw away on a whim. Baustelle create valuable, substantial pop music where the lyrics are significant, at times harsh, necessary, never banal.

"La malavita" is a sort of concept album that opens with "Cronaca nera", an instrumental piece that combines 1970s crime film music with a Battiato-like backdrop. "Cronaca nera" then gives way to the single "La guerra è finita", with '70s/'80s sounds (much like the entire album), which narrates an end that can be understood as death, as a loss of youth, as an abandonment of one of the many existing realities ("And despite the bombs, the television, despite the mines, the pen spit out dark words of life, the war is over, forever over, at least for me"). The journey continues with "Sergio", perhaps the only poorly executed moment of the entire album, especially in terms of lyrics, "Revolver", a bold portrait of a woman of the underworld. Then suddenly, the listener is catapulted towards the central part of the work and is captivated by tracks like "I provinciali" but above all, "Il corvo Joe" and "Un romantico a Milano". "Il corvo Joe" seems like a desperate song, intended for Celentano but sung in De André's style (note the singer's voice that vaguely echoes that of the great Genoese songwriter). It seems like an accusation of the city's everyday morality, seen from a character deprived of grace, "tolerated" (according to Pasolini's meaning) who, as a first and last cry, launches a curse against those who have always persecuted him. "Un romantico a Milano", on the other hand, is a dandy song about a dandy who, like Joe, rejects reality and all its surrogates and, in this specific case, rejects the life of the big city (Milan), which makes people anonymous, which only manages to offer solitude but, at the same time, loves it.

In short, "La malavita" is a passionate reaction to the conformity, to a brutal vulgarity, a child of development but not of progress and Baustelle are brilliant at filtering through these short narratives bursts of everyday life, life models shared by most people. It is an album to reflect on, but at the same time, it is pop where by "pop" we mean "light-heartedness in dealing with serious, important topics, even with a good dose of irony". It is an album that does not leave sadness, for this reason, it is pop, it satisfies, gratifies, it manages to pose questions, to attempt answers. And, in the finale, there emerges also a verse of pure love with "Cuore di tenebra", a tender love-song that gives a sense of completeness to the entire third Baustelle work.