Martello

"The worst edition ever," some say
the worst edition ever....so far, I say

Yes, that "so far" from a year ago was correct.

Simply +. More sparse, more inspired, more played, more heterogeneous, more pissed off, more melancholic, more poetic. More than the self-titled of '83, more than Nove, more than Piknic, more than that beautiful little disc that is Malelingue. 9+

The peak together with the previous Pigro. Here we reach the height of his production (alongside Fango): Fuoco sulla collina is a masterpiece of immense storytelling, a beautifully sung nightmare and perfectly centered guitar riffs. If we don't count the others... Taglia la testa al gallo, Agnese, Fame, Il piede di San Raffaele, Dottor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, Modena park... not a single piece less powerful than the other, truly frightening! I've always preferred Pigro between the two, but this... is spectacular! Best tracks: Fuoco sulla collina, Taglia la testa al gallo, Agnese.

Reevaluated. An album that you might listen to once and appreciate a lot... but after a few months of not hearing it, you struggle to remember a good part of the tracks. To give you an idea, I first listened to it in July 2020, and after almost a year of not listening to it entirely, I can only recall four songs; the rest is a blank slate. The inspiration is there, but unfortunately, it’s not as memorable as the self-titled album or Ivangarage, nor is it on the level of Ballata and Seni e coseni. It's certainly a well-crafted work, but it doesn't deserve more than 3.5 stars.

So, where to begin? Side A features four well-crafted ballads, polished to a shine by sacrificing ferocity (except for a bit of Ehi padre eterno) for a softness more akin to Venditti, which risks becoming monotonous after a while. Nevertheless, it produces some beautiful tracks like Pasqua and Ehi padre eterno. The second side brings us back to our dear Ivan, even if this time the lyrics don't always hit the mark. Nevertheless, it remains a good album, even if it can feel heavy upon a full listen. Best tracks: Pasqua, Digos boogie, Ehi padre eterno.

I don't know what to say... I was expecting a great album, inspired by that little gem Lucetta fra le stelle... but Limiti immediately thought to bury it all with "that stupid heart of yours always looking for love," good intentions for a textually mediocre song. What follows is pretty trivial, with the cute Il tamburino, the catchy Minù Minù, and the filler Gangsters. There are definitely some nice tracks, after all, we're still talking about Ivan; Blouson noir and Io che c'entro would be enough to place this album among the classics. The problem is that everything is contextualized within the 80s, trapping the songs in what was fashionable back then. It's not a bad album, just more ordinary and already heard. Best tracks: Blouson noir, Io che c'entro, Lucetta fra le stelle.

FUCKING HELL. I've been listening to this all day and I can't take it anymore, this album is truly a (half) disaster. Are we perhaps at Ivan's lowest point, a continuous rant that barely manages to finish a single listen? Well, the first 5 tracks are actually okay: Sola is a good start, catchy enough and musically brilliant, Ed è felicità has a nice rhythm and a text with some kick even if it doesn't hit the mark completely, La mia isola (as well as Evviva Vivì) is the best of the bunch and brings the guitar to the forefront. Because in the end, the real problem of this album isn't the excessive electronics, which, while annoying, Ivan manages to turn into a strength by combining it with his guitar arpeggios, but rather the inspiration of the songs, which in some cases goes practically to absolute zero: Soffice and Ho paura dei temporali have badly written lyrics, and it's not about throwing shade on Ivan (which is something I would rather avoid) but the fact that these two tracks are really written just to fill space, and it's a shame because the arrangements had some nice guitar play. However, the medal for the most disgusting piece goes rightfully to Baby love, where Ivan reaches the songwriting level of any random Biagio Antonacci. I... don’t know what to say, half of the album is well put together even if with a few too many trendy bends, the other half is a total disaster, thrown in just for the runtime.

#absolute masterpiece. In my personal top 20 of the best Italian albums

The golden period of Ivan comes to an end here, after exceptional albums like Pigro and that small merciless gem of I lupi. Ivan manages to drop the powerful trio Isabella on the train-Dada-Syracuse, only to then throw out beautiful ballads like Firenze and Olanda, and especially that splinter of madness called Tutto questo cosa c'entra con il R&R... but this time Ivan's bank doesn't win, both due to poorly crafted lyrics (Radio Londra, even though it has a very powerful rock driving it) and certain arrangements that don't captivate (Angelina). As for the rating, I'd rather not talk about it; I'll just say it's not quite full.

He told me less about Discanto. Always a high level, masterpieces like Sigonella, La Madonna Nera, Mio fratello che guardi il mondo, Notturno delle tre, Poca voglia di fare il soldato, and Lindbergh are not easily forgotten. However, compared to the previous two, it didn't completely captivate me. Not less beautiful, just less heartfelt. It's a matter of taste; some prefer pandoro over panettone, but they enjoy both.

As a taste of a less ethnic Fossati, it works. Obviously, compared to La pianta del tè, this is more powdery, but it can still be appreciated, especially for the very solid arrangements. Splendid Ventilazione, Viaggiatore d'occidente, and Boogie, as well as the quite decent Le grandi destinazioni and Il pilota. The rest isn’t always spot on, but it doesn’t really take away much. Really nice.

Another masterpiece. It hits you in the gut in an incredible way, featuring wonderful songs like Lusitania, Discanto, Lunario di settembre, Italiani d'Argentina, Passalento, and Confessione di Alonso Chisciano. Inspired, brilliantly arranged, and never understated. And Albertina represents me too much.

What did I just hear? A summary of everything Fossati has done since Ventilazione. Compelling, reflective, instrumental tracks—there's truly an embarrassment of riches. And then the triptych Treno di ferro, Disciplina della terra, Invisibile... stuff that makes you satisfied for life! Up until the subsequent listens of Lindbergh, Macramè, and La disciplina, my ranking is:
1/2: La pianta del tè
2/1: Discanto
3/4: La disciplina della terra
4/3: Macramè
5: Lindbergh

Every word would be superfluous. I only say that the intro to Caffè lontano is one of the most beautiful things birthed by the human mind.

It's another masterpiece. The first part (from La vita segreta to L'angelo e la pazienza included) is truly one of the highlights of the author, at the peak, featuring five wonderful masterpieces like La vita segreta or the stunning L'amante, but the other three (especially Il canto dei mestieri) are marvels of songs as well. The second part loses a bit of inspiration but still remains at excellent levels, showcasing gems like Labile, Bella speranza, and L'orologio americano. It all concludes with the instrumental Speakering, a spectacular and fitting closure. In conclusion, this Macramè has convinced me more than Lindbergh but not as much as Discanto and La pianta del tè. Still a masterpiece.