Claudio Baglioni
Anime in gioco

Now, in 1997 I was 12 years old, and certainly, I wouldn't have been interested in watching a Friday evening TV show called "Anima mia" (even though it was an unprecedented success, or almost) hosted by Fabio Fazio with that goofball Claudio Baglioni as his faithful adventure companion. Moreover, as much as it was an entertaining and at times comedic show, it was a nostalgic commemoration of the musical, cinematic, cultural, social, and playful world of the '70s, which, precisely, I had not experienced and, at 12 years old, didn't even know about (I would learn about it through reading, studies, and the like a few years later). But what on earth a Viewmaster was at that age, you can't know, nor the existence of a forgettable movie like "Amore in Formula 2" (but seriously, does anyone remember it?).

Well, from that show a CD was made, "Anime in gioco." Apparently, it sold well, apparently. I listened to it about a month ago for the first time, prompted by a 3 euro (I say 3 euros) promotion at the used goods market. Well, at most, I would have lost a few coins. I listened to it in the car, on a Milan-Como trip. Crazy traffic, but I like the album. I like it a lot. I think, it must be the traffic, let's say if I had listened to The Best Of by Al Bano, maybe, rather than freaking out, I would have liked it just the same. I listen to it at home, at ease, and I like it even more. I come to the conclusion, more and more, that it's the best thing by Claudio Baglioni. I know, it sounds strange, but that's how it is.

First of all, he doesn't sing his own songs. And that already seems a lot to me. And then the basic idea is very successful, having the aforementioned goofball sing anything released in the '70s with his classic whiny voice and that pathos that, well, you don't expect in "Heidi." I mean, hearing Baglioni declaim almost painfully memorable lines like: "Gli amici di montagna, Mu Mu, Cip Cip, Be Be" is priceless, especially considering the emotional enthusiasm with which he sings these lines. But what is most surprising, and here I get serious, is the musical arrangements which are of an impressive level, and perhaps, they deserved a much better fate, but that's just my opinion. There are moments that literally leave you speechless, given the numerous collaborations present. I casually mention a few, as they would say in Sicily: "E la vita, la vita" with an Enzo Jannacci, to say the least, wildly energetic; Vecchioni's cheerful happiness in "Donna Felicità"; Cocciante, refashioning himself in "Margherita" with "Pippi Calzelunghe"; Alan Sorrenti adjusts and improves his "Figli delle stelle"; "Orzowei" where a Natalia Estrada appears who, if she had probably pursued a singing career instead of wasting time around mattress-seller Mastrota, would have had decent success (she is remarkable here, listen to believe).

Let’s just say some musical insights are noteworthy: "El Pueblo Unido" with Inti Illimani is a piece of finesse from both sides, but the '90s disco-dance twist in "Vieni via con me (Taratapunzi-e)" leaves one astonished, as well as two serious pieces that give you chills, "Anima mia," excellently redone removing all the clichés and typical choirs of the Cugini di Campagna, and the exceptional duet (it is truly worth listening to) of "Il nostro concerto" by Umberto Bindi with Orietta Berti who, she too, nails the best performance of her entire career (the only track on the album not from the '70s, but from the '60s, and the song was already beautiful in itself).

It concludes with Morricone's theme from "Giù la testa," after passing through "Chissà se va" to "Buonasera dottore," from "Sandokan" to the indispensable "Ufo Robot."

The only negative note, but oh well, otherwise it would have been a masterpiece, is the completely messed up version of "Na-no Na-no" with an annoying Fabio Fazio busy interrupting the track with some imitations (after all, he started as an imitator) from Jovanotti to De Gregori, from Gianni Minà to Guccini, which are also well done, for goodness' sake, but after a while, enough already.

An album that aims to recount that mythical, and for me today, greatly reevaluated TV show, occupying the entire actual duration of a CD, that is an hour and twenty, 20 songs 20, and at the time, about 350,000 copies sold (probably exceeding the 400,000 mark). Excellent numbers, given that Baglioni had never made a covers album, and the first experiment was halfway between the serious and the, very much, facetious. And yes, it’s Baglioni at his best. Who would have thought? Not me.