Edoardo Bennato
Uffà! Uffà!

It's 1980 when Edoardo Bennato releases this "Uffà Uffà", three years after his previous work, "Burattino senza fili", which was a great success in terms of both sales and criticism, possibly surprising its author himself, who probably did not anticipate such a success, never "experienced" before. This might also explain the long break between the two releases, unusual for him (but in general somewhat for all singer-songwriters in the '70s), accustomed instead to releasing an album every year.

Already from the cover one senses that we are dealing with something out of the ordinary, which departs from the artist's typical production: it depicts an almost satanic Edoardo (albeit in "comic book" form), equipped with a tail and forked tongue with bolts coming out of his mouth, a jukebox as pants, and some kind of short circuit taking place. The fantastic cover mentioned is by Tony Esposito and had already appeared in "Dirotterotti", a book published by Bennato in 1979 that collected the scores of his songs as well as some writings previously published by Bennato himself under the pseudonym "Professor Cono", also the protagonist of another of his pieces contained in the album "Io che non sono l'imperatore" from 1975. And the songs on the album do not disappoint.

It starts with "Li belli gladioli", a kind of psalm recited without any musical accompaniment, with a final church choir-like feature, defined as a "propitiatory, penitential, ejaculative and hopeful chant": probably this opening track serves the same "function" as the cover, namely, to show that we are dealing with something unpredictable, strange, crazy. Whether or not one wants to reference the symbolism of the gladiolus (according to which the gladiolus signifies a strong character, but also indicates mistrust of that same character) is unknown. It continues with the '50s rock'n'roll, complete with saxophone, of "Sei come un juke-box": the song describes a common issue for many artists, namely the pressure from record labels to ensure that the release of records happens at almost regular intervals based on market logic and not, instead, according to the inspiration of their authors, with the risk that such records are, indeed, uninspired. This is even more evident in Bennato's case, who, as mentioned, went three years without releasing an album after the success of "Burattino senza fili", and who, therefore, must surely have experienced pressure from "his" record labels to release a new album as soon as possible. The analogy with the jukebox, where it suffices to insert a coin to hear the desired song, is clear. The "hundred lire" may also be a reference to inadequate compensations. Other Italian singer-songwriters had previously addressed the same issue, particularly Roberto Vecchioni in his 1973 song "Messina" (potrei far quello che non rischia, e come scarpe inventar dischi; ma far credere alla gente che se mi compra è intelligente sarebbe come una mattina svegliarsi ed essere a Messina, città che è degna d'ogni stima, ma che vuoi che ci faccia io a Messina) and Pierangelo Bertoli in his 1979 song "A muso duro" (Ho speso quattro secoli di vita e fatto mille viaggi nei deserti, perché volevo dire ciò che penso, volevo andare avanti ad occhi aperti. Adesso dovrei fare le canzoni con i dosaggi esatti degli esperti, magari poi vestirmi come un fesso e fare il deficiente nei concerti).

In the following soft-blues "Così non va, Veronica", we are faced with a hilarious track (certainly the most "radio-friendly" of the album, along with "Sei come un juke-box") where the undisputed protagonist becomes the saxophone, both in the lyrics (voglio imparare a suonare il sassofono, e ci riuscirò) and in the music, where the aforementioned saxophone is played (excellently) by Enzo Avitabile. The meaning of the lyrics of the rock-blues "Allora, avete capito o no?" will become clear only fifteen days after the release of the album in question, when the author will release a second album, "Sono solo canzonette", an operation kept in great secrecy until then. The "clue" is in the line "Si era sempre fatto così, si era sempre fatto uno per volta... ah? E allora?... E allora a me mi piace due per volta!", much to the chagrin and disappointment of those who had perceived something more "spicy" in those verses. But on the other hand, with that "si era sempre fatto così" it should have already been understood that the reference to the "spicy" was wrong: much rarer, surely, is the release of two albums within only fifteen days of each other than the other "situation." Moreover, with the release of "Sono solo canzonette" it became even clearer the irony underlying the previously mentioned song "Sei come un juke-box": not only had Bennato waited three years to release a new album, but then he released two in rapid succession. The unwritten market logic (at least at the time) not only foresaw the almost annual release of albums by the same artist but forbade, or at least discouraged, the release of two albums (always by the same artist) within a short distance of time from each other, as it was believed that, by doing so, the two albums could not both sell "well": but this prediction of the usual doomsayers will be proved completely wrong, especially with "Sono solo canzonette", which still remains one of the best-selling albums ever in Italian music.

It continues with the reggae of "Che combinazione", which in my opinion refers to the "entanglements" of terrorism-politics (Che combinazione, guarda che fatalità: siamo usciti di casa non sapendo bene cosa fare. E poi così per caso siamo arrivati tutti qua): after all, we were still in the midst of the infamous "years of lead". Following this, the gem of the album and one of my favorite tracks ever, "Restituiscimi i miei sandali": a true delirium, both in the music, where it transitions from soft, sleek, almost dreamy tones (in the verses) to more explosive, almost punk tones (in the chorus); and in the "singing", where even here it transitions from an almost subdued and resigned register to a decidedly more sarcastic, mocking, angry, and schizophrenic one. I even tried to give the lyrics a meaning but couldn't: perhaps it is just a (very successful) nonsense!

In the beguine of "A Licola" (a locality in the metropolitan city of Naples) it seems a finger is pointed at the political class and the consequent mismanagement of the territory involved, considering the fact that Licola is also an interesting archaeological site. At the end of the track, there is the effect of a skipping record, not in a fairy-tale sense, but of a record that skips, stumbles, and cannot move forward, perhaps to symbolize the previously described political myopia, when one cannot (or does not want to) move forward and look beyond. The album ends with the captivating punk of the title track, featuring (today one would say featuring) the Bolognese punk group Gaznevada: in the lyrics a clear and very angry reference is made to the winds of war that in that year blow between Western countries and the Arabs (and in particular between the USA and Iran) because of the problem of oil supply, with the consequently great risks involved, both economic and military. In the lyrics, there’s also the foreshadowing of a new austerity (Uffà! Uffà! Quelli erano già strani, forse per eredità o per costituzione; ma con i miraggi del paese delle meraviglie li avete incattiviti, e allora adesso andate tutti a piedi e non mi, e non mi, e non mi ricattate) and at the end, even with the sound of a real spit, aimed "at those in charge of this damned, damned, bloody third world war." A piece unfortunately still relevant, even for the risk of a third world war, albeit with different protagonists (at least in part).

In conclusion: an atypical, crazy, delirious, sarcastic, mocking, insane, startling, adrenaline-fueled, nervous, angry, in some ways genius album, where the author does not give up (at least partially) his customary tirades. Or even in this case, were they just songs? Who knows! Be that as it may, this work undoubtedly represents a one-of-a-kind in the career of the Bagnoli singer-songwriter: what a pity!