The debut you don’t expect. Just over twenty, the six members of "Biglietto" give birth to an album that will increasingly become, as years go by, a milestone in progressive music. Acclaimed in pop rallies and pushed towards phonographic support production, they blend perfectly everything circulating in the trendy musical ether of that period. A pronounced originality in the musical content, which often ventures into hard rock digressions simultaneously with broad classical and dreamlike returns, molds into their notes with unusual ease. Even the lyrics, often addressing themes of protests and bitter societal analysis, are of enormous level, created by the charismatic leader of the group: the superlative singer and multi-instrumentalist Claudio Canali.
An exciting journey into the deepest abysses that avant-garde rock knew how to create as a whole. The green age of the members is blameworthy for bringing the long symphonic parts to lose some freshness for a moment, but it’s akin to looking for a classical needle in a haystack. The album, recorded on an 8-track Telefunken 1/2 inch, opens with the anxious and crepuscular "Ansia" introduced by a candid and creamy interweaving of organ, keyboards, and electric guitar, culminating in a lively passage where Claudio Canali’s flute becomes the protagonist. However, it’s the keyboards of Banfi and Cossa that give the final jolt, supported by a dizzying and overwhelming drum base leading to the frantic finale. Canali retrieves his voice on a delicate carpet to briefly and gently describe an oppressive and critical feeling that tries to take refuge skeptically in religion. "Confessione" is the true masterpiece of Biglietto Per L'Inferno, a furious multitude of sounds and instrumental interludes synchronized at best, which give shivers even to the greatest monsters of the global progressive scene. Over six minutes of continuous tempo changes, the intro foreshadows the lava flow that Mainetti's guitar and "Baffo" Banfi’s keyboards offer in perfect harmony of intent. The inventive Canali swims like a fish in the sea, in this wave of sounds, with his powerful and acute voice, surprisingly skillfully describing the dialogue between a poor sinner trying to explain the reasons for his unorthodox actions to a friar who seems to have retained not a scrap of hope and forgiveness for him. The continuous instrumental phrasing remains distinctly rock, thanks to the considerable electric scoring and a truly convincing drum work by Gnecchi. But in the middle of "Confessione", Canali joins the explosive mix with his flute, striving to outdo any instrument attempting to take the lead. An indescribable forge of full-bodied and technically united sounds, which made many scream "miracle".
"Una Strana Regina" is, in turn, much more introspective, with Cossa’s keyboards accompanying the experimental and electronic works of the increasingly ingenious "Baffo" Banfi. The lyrics are a declared critique of a society where love and dreams no longer exist but a fierce queen called hypocrisy reigns. Canali’s vocal performance is interesting, singing in a subdued and heartfelt manner in the softer and more elaborate parts before unleashing in the only hard and jagged phase. The ending is ingeniously crafted on a very high-pitched classical guitar.
Decidedly particular is "Il Nevare". It astonishes especially for its constant search for changes of rhythm and the use of irregular time signatures. A mild introduction for organ and guitar guides Canali's voice which bursts into a sudden syncopation of great electric impact with bass and drums. The track continues to its end on this trend line, an endless succession of slowdowns and accelerations, where more than in other tracks, "Banfi's" work on the synthesizers takes over. As usual, Canali's phenomenal scenic voice manages excellently to relate to the challenging musical plots, describing a melancholic image of nature during a snowfall.
The LP concludes with the cruel and insane "L'Amico Suicida". The description of a man, close to death, is portrayed in his last moments of life by the friend who remains by his side. The introduction is, like all the other pieces on the album, of remarkable stature, richly packed with keyboards and accompanied by guitar notes, creating an atmosphere of expectation for what's to follow. A thunderous fulminant phase woven with organ and synthesizer yet spiced with Canali’s flute, first nostalgic then wild, and electric guitar distortions. Suddenly, the scene shifts to the funereal tale of the dying friend. A harsh description skillfully adorned with the whispers and jests of the brilliant Banfi. A slow and progressive piano moves to the forefront, well-led by the ever-present Mainetti on the electric. It concludes with a stretched and very long improvisational jam of rare instrumental complexity, teetering between different rhythmic planes. From guitars, to flute, to keyboards, each element in turn claims the main leading role. A demonstration of strong technical skill and compositional prowess. Along with "Confessione", the pivotal piece of the entire album.
A memorable album, objectively placed in the top ranks of the most successful prog manifestos of all time. Splendid the cover created by Cesare Montichiari depicting the dual reality of the human soul: the good-natured disposition (Front) and the diabolical soul (Back). In the subsequent CD version, the B-side of the single released simultaneously with the album was also included—specifically, it is the instrumental version of "Confessione" that further highlights Biglietto Per L'Inferno's uncommon ability and dragging capacity through the instrumental spaces rendered even freer to the listener.
Tracklist
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