Biglietto Per L'Inferno
Il Tempo Della Semina

In the unconscious awareness of not being able to replicate, in terms of inspiration, the incomparable eponymous concept of the previous year, Biglietto Per L’Inferno chose, for their second effort, the path of stylistic rigor.

From this point of view, the operation was perfectly successful, because Il tempo della semina technically outpaces the work that preceded it. But in progressive music, more than in other genres, the risk that formal accuracy leads to dryness is high, and it is what happens, for long stretches, to this record: played, arranged (the reference version is the one released in '92, the only one available) and sung excellently, it has the flaw of almost completely lacking the startling desolation of the debut album. Almost, because in some points, the Biglietto we love re-emerges, the one of Confessione, to be clear: on the level of textual strength and accompanying protest message, Claudio Canali – singer and lyricist – goes heavy in the piece that closes the album, the harsh, autobiographical "Canzone del padre", a true pinnacle of the work along with the opening title-track.
Even in this album, in fact, Biglietto does not miss the opportunity to launch poisoned darts against common morality, but the polemic force is more indirect and less sanguine, almost subdued: the words always and in any case come after the music, the undisputed sovereign of the whole.

A great album, nonetheless, and a stunning farewell step from one of the most underrated bands of the entire Italian prog scene—only a slight lack of spontaneity prevents it from reaching the heights of a 5/5. Nonetheless, it is very useful to make those who were teenagers in the '70s understand the treasure their ears let slip away, distracted by the rocking sounds coming from overseas.