Claudio Lolli
Un uomo in crisi

Just to complete the 'existentialist trilogy' of Lolli's early years, which precedes two good episodes like 'Ho visto anche degli zingari felici' and 'Disoccupate le strade dei sogni'. We are at the second LP, 'Un uomo in crisi'.

Not always does an artist shine with their first work, not always managing to condense the expressiveness of all the experiences that preceded the opportunity to encapsulate in a dozen songs the emotions and the vision that they have of themselves and their work, their poetry. We see it with illustrious examples; everyone started with at least a couple of lesser albums, useful to guide them, make them more demanding and understandable.

Lolli somewhat jumps the gun; he will never have a decade of masterpieces like some of his peers, nor a real attempt to return to the glory of the '70s. After the '80s, we will see him release new albums less and less frequently, sometimes with almost a decade between them.

While in 'Aspettando Godot' someone finds an author already aware of himself, with already significant poetic and musical choices, I don't agree. The same applies to this second LP, which is an episode nonetheless more than successful like 'Aspettando Godot', yet it feels like its shadow, almost an afterthought.

The evident analogies I’ve already expressed in the review of the first LP, which, even though similar (too much) to this one, in terms of musicality, atmospheres, meter, and also ethics, ends up being decidedly better. A separate discussion is deserved by the third LP, 'Canzoni di rabbia', the most successful.

In short, 'Un uomo in crisi' doesn't have much to say to those who know Lolli, and who, having left behind the nihilistic and Guccinian considerations of the first two LPs, will enjoy some later episodes more. And even Lolli has little to say, he returns to the themes of the previous one in almost every track, with the additional setback of already having ten tracks behind, not all of them beautiful. The album opens and closes with two very good episodes, 'Io ti racconto', almost a medley of Lolli's motifs, in which each line is delivered in a rapid, paranoid manner, almost a manifesto for the author; and 'La giacca', where the musings stand on their own, just listen to the poetic quality of the text.

Beyond these two tracks, certainly among the best of his entire work, not much is salvageable. The tracks can stir emotions, due to their consistently negative solutions and evocative atmospheres, but, after a few listens, almost all of them leave little impression. I don’t want to dismiss every track, but much like the previous album, this one suffers more from a lack of inspiration, from the obsessiveness of concepts that are neither original nor easy to listen to. The album is structured into two sides, like the one that will follow, here it is divided into songs of 'death' and 'life'. There is little to say about the individual tracks; the author's idea about reality is already clear, and while 'Aspettando Godot' might have contained beautiful lyrics and endured a bit of repetitiveness, this one is saved less easily, even if it reduced the number of tracks (a wise choice).

I love Lolli very much, but perhaps, even though he released fewer albums compared to the enormous output of, say, Vecchioni, he had much less autonomy, not much ability to reinvent himself. His best works must be sought in the frankness of his more humanistic and often dark themes. All things where Guccini has always outdone him by a couple of notches. This trilogy, which will be closed with 'Canzoni di rabbia', doesn't leave us with notable albums, but many beautiful songs, and undoubtedly you'll spot a few masterpieces among the nearly thirty tracks that serve as a prelude to the much-admired and popular 'Ho visto anche degli zingari felici'.

P.S. the cover, bloody hell, what discomfort, folks!