Grasshopper

I've never been a die-hard fan of this "Bob Dylan of the poor," and in particular, what he's done since the mid-'80s makes me feel sorry for him. That's why the only album I have from him is (coincidentally) that "ridiculous compilation with the red cover" mentioned. I'd like to know, aside from the cover, what’s so ridiculous about it, considering that out of 3 CDs, 2 and three-quarters are dedicated to the only truly redeemable phase of our Edoardo's production, namely the '70s. For those like me who don't particularly enjoy the folksinger from Campi Flegrei but find his early ballads quite interesting, it's a perfect summary. As for the current Bennato, it's better not to comment.

The mere reference to the eternal, idiotic, yet deeply embedded and widely parroted statement that "Classical music is relaxing..." pushes my judgment towards a 5. The rest is overflowing with fantasy and irony, and in these matters, the excellent Kyrielison has pleasantly accustomed us. Of course, he won't be able to do the same for those who, upon reading more than 30 lines, go into anaphylactic shock and, unable to do better, spit out a nice 1. But at this point, I wonder: what drives these individuals to make the futile effort of trying to understand words like these? Isn’t it more convenient to read a nice, not too long SMS, full of xchè and cmq, with length and content more accessible to their neurons?

The review concludes with a definitive "all smoke and no fire." I would adjust the aim and say that amidst such suffocating smoke, deliberately created to craft a feigned "cursed" and "transgressive" character, I can also glimpse a bit of fire. Nothing transcendent, just a pleasant pop-soul album and a voice that deviates from the adolescent-dumb clichés that are rampant everywhere. In any case, nothing even remotely comparable to certain cited artists: let's not confuse the sacred with the profane, please. I too acquired the album out of curiosity, after hearing nothing short of extravagant praises, along with the usual absurd comparisons. I found it passable and nothing more, and I don't believe I will delve much deeper into the chapter on Amy Winehouse. As for the character, it's not my fault that to impress the gullible one must create all this pointless commotion.

For several years, this exceptional artist has been present on this site with the meager total of 2 reviews, both mine ("Parallel Dreams" and "The Book of Secrets"). Thankfully, Hell has come along to give them justice. You can feel that you love her to madness, a sentiment I fully share. The album piques my curiosity, although I prefer the solemn and lush Loreena of "Book of Secrets" (and its ideal follow-up "Ancient Muse") to the rarefied and Christmas-like style of "A Winter Garden," or (going further back in time) "To drive the cold winter away." In any case, it’s always a pleasure to listen.

@Gustavotanz: Goodness, I completely forgot about Vai mo' and Bella 'mbriana, two masterpieces for me. I wonder why in my memories I placed them chronologically before Nero a metà... I’m much less enthusiastic about Musicante, but it's still an excellent album. I wholeheartedly agree about the last-minute efforts and the gimmicks. As for the masterpieces, I agree as well, but with the omission mentioned above.

I have always wondered how a hidden gem like "Jesce juorno" could be found in such a mediocre album. I'm not saying it's bad, but simply mediocre, not even remotely comparable to that irreplaceable series ranging from "Terra mia" to "Nero a metà," not to mention the live album "Sciò," if only for the musicians who play on it. Pino Daniele had already started that process of involution that led him to some unthinkable things in the '90s, yet some remnants of genius were still buried under layers of syrup. In "Jesce juorno" we can still fully appreciate it, and not by chance, it is the only track from the album that I remember. This review, good but full of the typical enthusiasm of a fan who forgives everything to their idol, nonetheless made me want to dig it out from the dust.

I’m still in shock from “Anywhere You Protect”: every time I listen to it, I feel a physical pain, especially in the first part, up to but not including “Medusa cha-cha.” This is not a negative judgment at all; on the contrary, it means that it’s an album that brutally digs into me at the beginning, almost making me bleed, only to then soothe me into a “relief of tears” (a quote from De André, just to change things up) with “Nutless,” “Lanterne rosse,” and the chilling “S.S. dei naufragati,” stuff that brings to mind visions of Coleridge. It’s a record that can be said to have everything, except leaving one indifferent. If this at all resonates, it's worth getting to know. The excellent review invites you to do so.

Even if Battiato, Fossati, and Conte were at least somewhat overrated, in their case, one can at least say that they somewhat deserve it, meaning that any potential overvaluation stems from an undeniable, actual base value. Let’s instead consider how many absolute zeros, especially in the Italian landscape, can enjoy exceptional credit and even more exceptional sales (relatively, given the dire crisis of the record market).

Partially disappointed by Fossati who picked up the guitar again (see "L'Arcangelo") and feeling a lot of nostalgia for the melodic "pianistic" phase that ranges from "Pianta del Tè" to "Disciplina della Terra," I hope that the urge to express himself in a more immediate language, already started with "Lampo viaggiatore," hasn't led our author towards the dangerous abyss of the clichéd song, as suggested by the Punisher. The only track I've heard unfortunately goes in this direction, but it's not enough to judge the entire album. In any case, the review encourages a deeper exploration.

P.S. And (I almost forgot) I also invite you not to get too down. It's not worth it, and in any case, around here, we've read much worse.