Edoardo Bennato
La Torre Di Babele

This thing, I told myself, had to be done.

What follows is a free interpretation, free from any personal ideology, perhaps true, perhaps insane and perhaps really bigger than me, of something that may have an explanation, at least in the mind of the one who composed this something; but anyway...

"We Berliners are unique”, reads the caption of the photo on the envelope... Right now, the Teutonic city evokes nothing but splendid moments of exaltation (World Champions!!!), but 30 years before Cannavaro raised that cup, another Neapolitan sang about another city. A wounded, divided, condemned city. A sick city. Its illness had symptoms of masonry and barbed wire. East Berlin is in the hands of the Soviets, the repression on the inhabitants is unbearable, yet a ray of hope comes from an ordinary man driving his carriage: "I sell freedom." - Franz shouts with his shrill voice - "Do not think about it, do not be afraid: West Berlin awaits you, with all your desires in its showcases and all your dreams, forbidden until yesterday, within reach!” His voice is that fresh of Edoardo Bennato, who accompanies this long and illusory ballad, one of the most relevant episodes of this 1976 LP.

“La Torre Di Babele” first catches the eye with its original graphic design, straddling the past and the future: on the cover, a splendid drawing by Bennato himself, a pyramid depicting the history of mankind, between conquests and ruin; a biblical Babel, indeed. Inside, instead, a beautiful drawing with collaborators in lunar poses, to symbolize the spatial future. It is precisely the title-track that opens the work: a beautiful rock song, with Bennato ironically intent on exhorting man to continuously surpass himself, because "man - as he reminds in his spectacular verses - is superior to every other animal". Excellent arrangement, with Robert Fix’s saxophone in prominence. It is followed by a gem, an acoustic song among the most beautiful in the entire discography. “Venderò” is the man’s concession to the higher cause, the good of the world he lives in. Everything contributes to well-being: shoes can be sold to mannequins, knowledge to the masters of progress, defeat to those who need to feel strong, even anger to narrow-minded bigots... As good Raffaele says, the Market eliminates those who have nothing to offer; yet there is something priceless that is worth any deprivation: freedom. The allegory of dictatorship (which perhaps I dream of, I don’t know) might continue with the carefree “EAA”... The bus (the people?) has broken brakes and goes straight towards the abyss; the driver-dictator says he will do his duty to the end, then leaves at the first distraction, leaving the bus along the descent. But the people have noticed nothing, and keep singing choruses. Only one person has noticed the “brainwashing” that the party has led to, and then feels like doing something, at least getting down too... something you will try to do in the following piece, precisely the beautiful “Franz È Il Mio Nome”. Side A closes with the classic Bennato’s “delirium”: “Ma Chi È”. To be enjoyed to the end, in its obsessive questioning (perhaps symbolic of the people who do not want to change)... “Who is out there?”

Freedom, as they say: freedom must be conquered, so what better means than the exaltation of action? This is "Viva La Guerra”: leave your land, your woman, give yourself to the cause. The enemy of the holy war has the features of the fierce Saladin, of course. The dedication must be total, of course... “And if by chance you die you needn't fear: we'll make you a beautiful monument that everyone can see!” Beyond the irony and speaking of music, because in reality it talks about nothing else, the song is a splendid rock & roll, with an exciting rhythm culminating in a remarkable instrumental section, with Tony Esposito’s percussion in great evidence. Follow songs perhaps less flashy, yet they seem somehow symbolic of the theme of the work. "Cantautore” (recorded live) is a kind of self-celebratory litany of the category, or perhaps of a hypothetical dictator, who knows... (“Don't you hear them hold their breath, when you are up there and walk on the wire? Here, in the big circus, you are now the king.”) "Quante Brave Persone” is instead an extravagant song about the diligence of the people, very heartfelt in the interpretation and even shrill in the arrangement. Closes "Fandango”, a crazy piece for which my senseless analysis doesn’t find an explanation (I accept ideas...): at absurd speed Bennato creates disorienting juxtapositions (“before giving you the time to make the first move I find myself a place as a right-winger in a football team”) to tell of a woman who, sewing herself a new flag ("all green with a black ball”, also highlighted in the central design), something that feels revolutionary, flees to Argentina to take tango lessons. The melody goes crazy, and a hypothetical Argentine presenter appears to welcome ladies and gentlemen... it is chaos, Babel, culminating in a reprise of the theme of “Cantautore” to seal the work.

The LP, let's clarify immediately, due to some perhaps forgettable tracks, is not on par with the masterpieces that will come, and perhaps not even with the excellent "I buoni e i cattivi”, yet with it, perhaps more than any other of Bennato’s works in the '70s, I have a deep affection, thanks to a handful of really exceptional songs and an atmosphere that will pervade even the great works of the following years, first of all that "Burattino senza fili” which will enter history. An ironic Pinocchio, therefore, which Franz already metaphorically predicted from his carriage:

“Like Pinocchio, you won’t believe your eyes, when you see the Land of Toys…”