Voto:
I see that the revival of Bindi is met with unanimous approval, and I add my appreciation for the evident involvement that runs through your lines, but I cannot completely share the meaning or what it seems I have found in it. It seems one can understand that having a "cultured" and/or classical background and striving to write songs that, in their structure and orchestrations, reveal such a baggage is in itself a guarantee of quality: I do not believe that, in fact, I think often the opposite is true. The song has specific canons destined, as you also underline, to change in relation to the times, customs, and language: the hybridization of distant elements, both temporally and stylistically, must be handled with care and a certain degree of audacity if one wants to avoid the "artificial" effect, of sterile overlays, meant to "elevate" what would otherwise be considered "in vogue," banal, "popular," like that which, in subsequent years, would have been deemed the genus of the "screechers." In this specific case, I think ''Al di là'' was simply more beautiful than ''Non mi dire chi sei,'' closer to that form of song destined to impose itself, with an immediate singability and an orchestration that enhanced its elementary dynamics without attempting to elevate anything. "Il Nostro concerto" is another matter: listen to how the orchestral introduction already functions perfectly, upon which the voice rests with naturalness and effectiveness, bringing us straight into that mood, and how linear and "singable" the melodic line is that unfolds immediately, how the arrangement and orchestration, between the spatial sweetness of the female choir and the full, impetuous, and growing orchestra emphasize its effectiveness. And indeed it works: "Ten consecutive weeks at number one." I do not believe that it was delicacy that prevented his music from surviving, as you say, into the '70s, I fear it was a sensitivity in balance, unable to adapt its feelings to those of the times, as it was anchored to a nature and lexical instruments (meaning here also and above all those of musical language). - Regarding the "homosexual issue" (funny, written like this it forces me to think of the "Southern question") and the fact that his being gay mattered more than the song, I believe it says more about the song than one might think. In the sense that a great song, due to the mysterious properties of this ultimately simple form, would have nevertheless prevailed over the ring, would have absorbed it, perhaps rendering it a bizarre iconographic note. This does not mean that I do not acknowledge or even deny the bigoted and homophobic conditions of Italy at that time; on the contrary, I grew up with them: it means that if his songs had won the challenge with the times, his sexuality would not have been a sufficient obstacle to hinder success, for the simple reason that success would have generated money and the record industry would have found a way to profit. It did so with his songs sung by others, in fact: I believe the same songs performed by him would not have worked the same way, and, I fear, not because of his sexual orientation. - Among the names you mention, outlining the period in which, you say, music "drew roots from the suffering of everyday life..." it may be a coincidence, but the author who has truly survived the test of time and drawn a constant evolution and significantly adhered changes to the shifting themes is only De Andrè, Tenco having disappeared in the midst of a path that could have been surprising in the years, Ciampi having lived in a wholly personal and almost impermeable cosmos, Paoli having lived off his ācreativeā capital until our tragic days. And he is the only one, De Andrè, to have thoroughly explored his lexicon, both musical and otherwise, shifting the center of gravity, seeking at every turn a different ground for challenge, accepting the challenge posed by the language itself. So, with all the affection that Bindi ev
