Danilo Sacco
Gardè

On a rainy day in November 2011, Danilo Sacco announced to the nomadic people that he would shortly be leaving the group in which he had worthily replaced – 18 years earlier – the great Augusto Daolio.

After seven years and two beautiful solo albums (“Un altro me” and “Minoranza rumorosa” which I may review one day), in December 2018 “Gardè” was released, the album, in my opinion, of his maturity.

A work that talks about stories, sports, and, why not, politics but without passing judgment.

As he has stated in numerous interviews, the invitation he extends to listeners is to inform themselves, document, and ultimately think with their “own minds,” something that, lately, many of us aren’t very good at.

An element that emerges from the very first listens is precisely how the sporting spirit is the antithesis of today’s political one.

“Jesse e Lutz”, the first song, tells of the friendship between Jesse Owens and Carl Ludwig “Lutz” Long, born in Berlin during the 1936 Olympics “Hitler’s Olympics.” After winning the 100 meters, the black athlete Jesse Owens has to compete in the long jump event directly against Lutz, who encourages him, advises him, and somehow pushes him to win despite the “superior race” standards, provoking the ire of the Nazi hierarchs.

Even “Amico Mio”, the first single released, is about sports and friendship: that between the South African rugby player Joost Van Der Westhuizen and the New Zealander Jonah Lomu. Opponents but united also, unfortunately, in subsequent illness.

The last sports story is “Best” dedicated to the great footballer George Best and is a portrait of his career of genius and unruliness in football.

With “New York 1911”, the dramatic way tells the tragedy of the Triangle factory that occurred in March 1911, in which 146 workers (123 of whom were women) lost their lives, mostly Italians and Jews. The music recalls some American ballads from the 70s, and the lyrics (not at all cliché) are truly touching.

“La Rosa Violata” is a sort of sad lullaby: a father addresses his daughter who has suffered violence. The sensitivity and delicacy with which the subject is handled make the song a moving condemnation of the phenomenon.

“La Lunga Strada” is the contribution of Massimo Bubola; in the style of “Non Ho Santi In Paradiso” (present in “Un Altro Me”) or Il Cielo ‘Irlanda, I see it as a fond tribute to their respective musical careers.

“Una Nuova Babele” exalts the richness contained in “diversity.” If we think about it, Italian is the child of migratory waves and the many populations that have passed through here, and it is precisely these characteristics that our originality is owed to; not being contaminated impoverishes the mind and culture.

“Gardè” is written together with Calabrian psychiatrist Silvio D’Alessandro and dedicated to the Mayor of Riace Mimmo Lucano, criticizing the racist wave that increasingly plagues our streets with its fears, clichés, and platitudes.

In essence, it is an album whose songs deserve to be played in schools without any commentary from the teachers.