Carmelo Pipitone
Piedi in acqua

Authentic and true to himself. Carmelo Pipitone is chameleonic, noisy, intimate, raw, minimal, or kaleidoscopic, capable of narrating himself without filters or being hermetic. He demands attention, requires repeated listens to be understood, or brings out a "lullaby" that stays in your head forever. Carmelo Pipitone perfectly represents what it means to be a musician in the era we live in; a mission of truth, a marriage of effort and continuous research. A guitarist with an unmistakable style, known to many for founding Marta sui Tubi with Giovanni Gulino in the early 2000s, he has been a protagonist in the evolutions of the Italian independent scene; from "house-concerts" to the stages of Primo Maggio, even ending up on the stage of Teatro Ariston to disrupt Littizzetto on national broadcast. With his band, he has collaborated with true legends of our music, from Lucio Dalla to Franco Battiato, but most importantly, he has toured up and down the boot for years, repeatedly following the "album/tour" pattern without missing a beat. His visceral love for his instrument, his technical expertise, and the physicality of his performance have never gone unnoticed, and even in the most pop episodes of his career, he has always been intact, original, and recognizable. Since 2014, he has been a member of what we can call a "super band," "O_R_K," alongside the rhythm section composed of Colin Edwin (ex Porcupine Tree) and Pat Mastelotto (King Crimson) and the talented LEF, a composer and singer with a crystalline and multifaceted vocal timbre.

"Piedi in acqua" is his third solo album, coming after countless collaborations and a dense pathway of introspective and exploratory writing. There is a true mutation between "Cornucopia" from 2018, the subsequent "Segreto pubblico" from 2020, and this album, released on January 25, 2024. What emerges from the listens is primarily a more "soloist" dimension, where the artist "completes" himself in the sound layers, playing (almost) everything playable personally and a lyrical writing that embraces the cantautore tradition while keeping his vocal metric and timbre recognizable. The guitar is played, used as percussion, battered or caressed, but it is at the core of the entire album's aesthetic. It starts with "Tempo," based on a sunny riff and lyrics intending to reconnect and contextualize the themes and sounds of the journey we are beginning. "Sono stato" starts with a slight percussion and goes through melodic openings, from judgments that seem autobiographical to some veiled threat, between a rhyming couplet and a curse. There's much to understand, and after just two pieces, the impression is that of facing an evolved artist who took the right time to bring out this collection of such heterogeneous pieces, yet equally dense with meanings. "Pinzeri," courageously chosen as the introductory single, is characterized by the use of the Sicilian language and - as the lyrics say - it is a sweet lullaby, resembling a "twisted" nursery rhyme but narrating the depth of the mind, the sleepless nights, the thoughts that come and overwhelm us when we least expect, leaving us drenched in doubts and unable to sleep. "Veleno" raises the emotional bar completely; such explicit introspection sounds profoundly original, and it's impossible to emerge unscathed; it's a hymn to resistance, seeking one's inner energy. With "Piedi in acqua," things slow down, guitar and voice take on an almost choral form, everything opens and calms, and the water mentioned seems to flow before us, slow but never reassuring. "Meravigliosa" with its harmonized guitars sounds like it's from a Le Orme record, but knowing a bit of Carmelo, it actually makes us think in the final progression also a bit about Ghost. There's still the image of water, the same at the center of "Le vesti non servono più," which seems like a partisan song and impresses with the vocal interpretation and the delicacy of the lyrics. With "Il re è nudo," we return for a moment to images and sounds already explored in previous albums, with a recognizable chorus and distorted guitars. "Odessa" is splendid in its delicacy, a lullaby full of love and emotion, courageous and explicit, one of the best episodes of the record. "Peste nera" looks at how ideology turns into deviance and expresses disdain and pity for a generation that "doesn't know" and misses the beauty of discovering the other; it's an almost paternal and human perspective, despite everything. In "U riavulu," we return to the origins, not just for the use of the Sicilian language, so powerful, evocative, and musical, but for the clarity of the images and sound. A piece that in "full band" would be devastating, but it shakes even like this, without a rhythm section and with that final scream. "Altri mondi" and "Lamerica" accompany us to the end of this journey, between clear and evocative images and a quiet sound. If it's true that the great cantautore tradition of our country had accustomed us to artists capable of impacting the present with their works, recounting reality with a popular language and the strength of their musical ability, this album by Carmelo Pipitone is fully slated to leave an indelible mark. The lyrical evolution is undeniable, and the ability to represent images that appear clear to the listener is a sign of great quality and artistic dignity of a true craftsman of music. Carmelo Pipitone takes himself seriously and demands to be listened to carefully, constantly evolving, and this time he has made a great album.