Baustelle
Sussidiario Illustrato Della Giovinezza

It was 2000.

In the first year of the new millennium, there were doubts about the fate of Italian independent rock, given the not-so-thrilling recent works by leading bands of the genre, such as Afterhours and Verdena.
Rumors spread about the existence of a new Pulp, but Italian. And here they are, the new Pulp, those who mix rock, electronics, and pop into an appealing blend: the Baustelle.

The group from Montepulciano emerged precisely in the first year for all of us with three zeros, with their first CD: "Sussidiario illustrato della giovinezza". And it is precisely youth, adolescent loves, the little heartaches of young girls, the broken dreams and the dreams to come, that form the foundations of the album. Moreover, the Baustelle do not hide cinematic references, their love for Fellini, Morricone, Pietrangeli, "La Dolce Vita", Cinecittà, Via Veneto, and that comic book noir taste.

Francesco Bianconi's low, sensual voice and Rachele Bastreghi's more melodious yet equally sensual voice often alternate in overwhelming duets, accompanied by those incredibly melodic and fitting pop tracks, mixed with light rock and that pinch of electronics, always perfectly fitting. Some inspirations from Pulp are evident, as in "Gomma", the fifth song of the album, which strongly reminds of "Common People" and "La canzone del riformatorio", which in turn calls to mind "Disco 2000", again from Cocker's group.

The "Sussidiario", as it is commonly called by the "Baustelliani", opens with "Le vacanze dell'83", dominated by references to first summer loves, first sexual experiences, as the phrase says "I hid away, I spied on her and my best friend because they were touching"", and the '80s, where the Baustelle grew up, with one of the most interesting choruses of recent years, where Bianconi and Bastreghi's voices overlap perfectly.
It is followed by "Martina", where the pain of first crushes is encountered. An intense piece, "performed" very well by the whole group, which perfectly immerses in the adolescent torments the song deals with. Then it's the turn of "Sadik", where the most interesting part is an intertwining of strings at the end, making the piece wonderfully intense, with repeated groans enhancing that intense eroticism the entire song expresses.

And from eroticism, it moves to the illusion of little girls, in "Noi bambine non abbiamo scelta", viewed from the illusioned eye of a young girl. Next, the already mentioned fifth, "Gomma", then "La Canzone del Parco", the only one where Rachele's voice is almost always solo. Another touching piece, one of the best on the album. Number seven is the other one already mentioned, "La Canzone del Riformatorio", which, as previously said, greatly recalls the Pulp, yet remains an excellent track where the apparent simplicity of the music leads us to stark reality. "Cinecittà" is number 8. It starts with wonderfully enveloping music, with an awkward duet, a conversation for an erotic film followed by yet another very interesting chorus from the Tuscans, listing their passions, all garnished with cinematic and literary quotations. Ninth is the bitter "Io e te nell'appartamento", a song full of memories, thoughts, reflections, and hopes. The CD closes, and unfortunately, I dare say, with "Il musichiere 999", where Baustelle tell their story, introduce themselves, state what they aspire to with promises for the future.

Promises more than kept with the excellent "La moda del lento" and "La Malavita" that followed this fundamental album for the genre, and for Italian music as a whole.