Davide Van De Sfroos
De Best

This is the review of an incredible work, a rare gem given to us by the famous singer and songwriter from Lake Como, Davide Van De Sfroos.

49 songs, taken from his vast repertoire, in a period ranging from 1999 (that is, from the start of his solo career, after the choral experience of Van De Sfroos) until 2015.

Our artist, who is perhaps, paradoxically, the most international of Italian singers and songwriters, with his eternal mix of country, folk, blues, acoustic ballad, surpassing typical instruments of American and Irish culture, such as the violin (The Pogues as a reference), extracts some of his historic pieces, and even some less historic ones, and presents them in his own way in a more modern key but always attentive to tradition. Not rarely, these songs, especially the newest ones, have new forms and colors (see all the songs from “Goga e magoga,” 2014) and become, in this context, more intimate and moving (“Cinema Ambra,” which tells of the fascination for cinema by a man who waits every Friday evening to go there, or “Infermiera,” a poignant song about war, the piety and pain it causes, filtered through the eyes of a nurse who falls in love with a wounded man, "In questa nocc duve se mazzen in mila lassum innamurass de voen lassum innamurass de luu, l'ha verduu i occ e l’ha faa un surii e l’ha anca imbrucaa el mè noom").

Thus, moving through the historic songs (“La balera,” which, however, in its original version had a more enhanced melody and a more persuasive female voice, perhaps a bit too robotic) and others less known (the splendid “Fendin,” which seems to come from a distant and nebulous world), Van De Sfroos has given a sure homage to that piece of land which Lake Como watches in a magnificent way (listen to “Akuaduulza”) but which moves, unhurriedly, to distant worlds. This is the case with the guitar in “Rosanera” which travels around the world, having passed first to Robert Johnson, then to Garcia Lorca, and finally to Bob Dylan. Or, in all respects, the De Andreian “Sciur capitan,” once again the supreme ruler is war and a guy, Giovanni, who is tired, returns home and, dear captain, do as you wish: "Sciur capitan, t'ho di' la verità, son proprio stuf e stasera turn a cà, se te voret scriv, te regali la mia pena, se voret sparam, questa che l'è la mia schena".

Of course, there is also plenty of laughter, with “Il figlio di Guglielmo Tell” (“pruvem almen cun la sandia”), “La ballata del Cimino” (heartening all the way), “L'Alain Delon de Lenn” (a calf that survived the times and modes that still teach a lesson in style, “g'ho cercà de insègnàt quaicoss giügand a bocce o de nott a Lugano, ma pöu minga insègnà el stil a chel che el g'ha minga a purtata de man.”), “Yanez” (who was brought to Sanremo in 2011, and it reached fourth place), “Il duello” (two shooters who have accusations against each other, all serious, the public waiting for the decisive shot, but suddenly, they take out their phones and are scolded by their wives to return home, or because dinner is ready, or because it's one of their children's birthday). And these stories can go on and still be whatever they want, but they will always move. “La ballata de Genesio,” above all, “La tüsa del tenent,” among others.

In the end, I almost hoped, even the famous “Hoka Hey,” dedicated to Native Americans and their massacres, Davide Van De Sfroos’ “Fiume Sand Creek.” Refashioned a bit more, in this case, major than the original. In the same way, I think, is the wild “Grand Hotel” (more festive, given the themes treated) and “El carneval de Schignan,” which is buzzing, partly entertaining, but hides, not even too much hides, a typical Lake Como veil of sadness, like when clouds replace the sun, the fog descends, and things become confused.

A long, long best of, almost three and a half hours, a fundamental work dedicated to all lovers of the singer and songwriter from Lake Como (who was born in Monza, oh well). The others? They'll either understand and love it, or too bad for them. What do you want me to say? "El veent el sa che 'l fa fadiga, el fa fadiga, a moev un cactus nel deseert". It takes patience.