Consorzio Suonatori Indipendenti
In quiete

This album, like the others by Consorzio Suonatori Indipendenti, has already been extensively reviewed. Is another review necessary (and especially mine)? For the public (and, especially, for the C.S.I. fans), I would say it might seem superfluous. For me, however, it takes on the meaning of a well-deserved thank you: to the album, which introduced me to this group's music, and to Ferretti, who moved me (and sometimes shocked me) with his lyrics and vocal interpretation.

"In quiete" is the second album by C.S.I., a group that rose from the ashes of CCCP, a new musical endeavor by the Ferretti-Zamboni duo. It is a live, predominantly acoustic album, which at first sight appears to be diametrically opposed to the punk irreverence of the early CCCP.

It's the Year of Our Lord 1994, and Ferretti has just entered his forties: this simple fact alone would be enough to understand how coherent, or simply necessary, this change of direction, this need for inner retreat, this search for quieter atmospheres, is. If we analyze the history of the CCCP, it's even clearer that this supposed "change" has actually been constant and gradual. On a strictly musical level, the first album by Consorzio was "Epica" from 1990, when former Litfiba members Maroccolo and Magnelli became permanent members of the group. More than a sudden change of direction, I prefer to think of Ferretti's musical journey as a progressive shift (elevation?) of the observation point occupied by the author. After all, as the ancient Heraclitus said, "panta rei".

There is a deep calmness in this album, but not relaxation (as Ferretti himself writes). The album begins with Magnelli's piano, which creates serene, almost nocturnal harmonies in the piece "In viaggio", contrasted by the slow and funeral pace of Ferretti's voice. "Inquieto" is a new track, played upon the harmonic dialogue between Ferretti's almost spoken vocals and Di Marco's light countervoice. The protagonist again, as in the subsequent "Memorie di una testa tagliata", is Magnelli's piano: an atmosphere reminiscent of the future Sigur Ros is palpable. The mood changes abruptly with "Stati di agitazione" and "Palpitazione tenue", as the first is distressing and the second claustrophobic. There is no hope in Ferretti's scream as he declares "... Yet I am alive!", only anger and impotence. Resignation is also felt in the lyrics of "Occidente", accompanied by a gypsy-tinged music. The peak of the album is reached with two old gems from the early CCCP, a fast and light version of "Io sto bene" and a sparse and almost unrecognizable "Allarme". Then follows a splendid cover of "Lieve" by Marlene Kuntz (followed in subsequent albums by even more extraordinary covers of "E ti vengo a cercare" and "Noi non ci saremo"). One can catch one's breath with the more relaxed rhythms of "Fuochi nella notte" and "And the radio plays". The album closes with a beautiful version of "Del Mondo", with the piano again as the protagonist.

Finally, given that we're ultimately talking about Ferretti, the extraordinary lyrics must be highlighted: brilliant, visionary, hermetic, sometimes insane. In short, in a word, Ferrettian. Ferretti has managed, perhaps like only De Andrè and Guccini before him, to coin generational slogans. "Io sto bene/io sto male/io non so come stare" is a perfect synthesis of Ferretti's lyrics: both brilliant and simple and (perhaps deliberately) banal. But, in reality, no word from Ferretti's mouth can be banal. His interpretation, cold, monotonous, sometimes aphonic, constantly apathetic, manages to evoke as no other the emptiness, the anguish, and the despair. In every song, even those with the seemingly most bizarre lyrics, like "Palpitazione tenue", there's a small pearl phrase: "Mi ammalia credo una necessità perdente".

In conclusion, an absolutely indispensable album in a CSI fan's discography. Thanks to a smoother and more enveloping sound compared to the rest of the group's production, it can also be appreciated by a wider audience.