1st: LAZY
After many years of hard work and a masterpiece behind him called I lupi, Ivan decides to aim even higher: he summons the best musicians of the time and skyrockets the budget for the recordings... and the result speaks for itself. Pigro is an extraordinary album, consisting of 8 tracks that managed to bring one of the first gusts of rock to the ears of all Italians, with sounds that are perfectly crafted and always original. The role of the Trojan horse goes to Monna Lisa, introduced by a mechanical and driving riff that tells the story of a man who decides to steal the Mona Lisa from the Louvre to destroy it; in this piece, all the characteristics of the artist are present, with a surreal and lively text, and a powerful rock that explodes in the chorus to the tune of Monna Lisa. After such a beginning, the album delivers its two main ballads: Sabbia del deserto, featuring a masterful brass arrangement, narrates the life of an artist who (survives) in his provincial town where he reunites with his girlfriend and relatives, who are perpetually anxious about him; the second one is Paolina, a slightly Vendittiano portrayal of the daily struggles and desires of a girl at the center of certain men's attention. Suddenly, one of the most successful pieces in the singer-songwriter's repertoire materializes in the middle of the album, introduced by a powerful and aggressive guitar riff and a hard and precise drum beat that immediately create an atmosphere of unease: this is Fango, a gruesome story of a 21-year-old who commits murder. The lyrics are disarmingly beautiful, making you feel as if you're standing in front of the young murderer, and the arrangement reaches one of the highest levels in Graziani's guitar work, giving strength and grit to the chorus and creating a sound enchantment that straddles the gruesome and the magical. Digging into the B-side, we find a very particular song, the title track Pigro: built on an apparently simple and catchy acoustic guitar progression, it narrates the narrow-minded way of thinking of certain bourgeois categories who read book after book but can’t even tell the difference between a branch and a leaf; a small and mouthwatering classic of Ivan's repertoire. After the slow folk festival in b-Milano, poking fun at the progressive groups of that time in a rock-folk style, comes another of the artist's best songs: Gabriele D'Annunzio, a title that is merely a red herring since it talks about a rude and uncivilized farmer who has little to do with the poet; the arrangement consists almost exclusively of acoustic guitar, spiced up in some passages only with flutes. Ivan’s greatness lay precisely in this: he could enchant and surprise even using simple and basic arrangements in the style of the singer-songwriter movement of the time. This small work closes with another ballad called Scappo di casa: this time it’s the piano that supports a good part...
 
2nd: AGNESE SWEET AGNESE
In 1979, Ivan is at the peak of his artistic inspiration, and just the year before he had released an album that would turn out to be one of the most inspired moments of his work, achieving significant commercial success. After such an event, Ivan attempted to take another step forward, producing ten tracks for one of the masterpieces of Italian music: Agnese dolce Agnese. The beginning sets the tone right away: a legendary acoustic guitar riff and penetrating percussion, these are the predominant elements in Taglia la testa al gallo, an invitation to challenge something or someone that annoys you. As we flip the record, we encounter Agnese, a slow and dreamy piece that recounts moments spent with a girl who now only lives in the protagonist's memory; a true amarcord that grips the protagonist’s mind as he regrets never having confessed his feelings to her. These two tracks represent the two sides of the album, which skillfully blends rock and ballads with Ivan Graziani's lyrics that are sometimes furious, sometimes realistic, and sometimes fairy-tale-like. There are moments of pure autobiography like Fame, a tale of how hunger (a classy lady) can drive one to do things they absolutely loathe, and there are absurd and dark provincial stories like Veleno all'autogrill and Canzone per Susy, where in the first we find a boy stealing salmon from an autogrill to a blues/rock base, while in the second we have the story of Susy, the girl of a bassist who is already in a relationship; it all ends with the bassist's other girl cutting Susy's hair. Among the tracks, there are also moments dedicated to religion and everything that revolves around it: Il piede di San Raffaele, ironic in addressing the superstitions of those who go to kiss the relics of saints for good luck, and Il prete di Anghiari where more than a priest, one feels they are facing a mythological figure. Inside the album, there is also a song that is one of the most beloved by Ivan's audience and the author himself: Fuoco sulla collina is a manifesto of youthful illusion, that which drives young people to undertake long, stormy journeys for something that ultimately turns out to be just a handful of flies; this is the meaning of the piece from today's perspective, but considering it is a piece from 1979 intended to depict the youth uprisings caused by '68, one realizes that the piece has not aged a bit and over time has taken on multiple meanings. In conclusion to this small analysis, Agnese dolce Agnese is an album that perfectly summarizes the many facets of Ivan, managing to unite his more extreme and rock-oriented side with his more delicate and dreamlike one.

The gem:
Fuoco sulla collina
 
3rd: THE WOLVES
A year after Ballata per 4 stagioni, a musically excellent album but with pieces not yet fully embodying Ivan's style, comes a legendary album that is nothing less than a bomb containing all the qualities of Ivan Graziani. Assisted by his colleague and friend Antonello Venditti, Ivan pulls out of the hat a gritty record focused more on virtuosic guitar arpeggios. The task of welcoming the listener falls to the title track, which already reveals the intentions of the work: a penetrating and airy guitar riff sets the backdrop for a story of war, where the wolves mentioned are simply soldiers headed to the battlefield, and in the chorus it opens up, making the singing violent and the guitars more rock and tough. After such an opening, another hard and raw track titled Motocross immediately follows: the classic dark and magical story of a boy (perhaps Ivan himself) envied for his bike, who falls in love with a girl who, in the end, will steal his vehicle with two other shady figures, all seasoned with a rock and driving arrangement that catapults the listener alongside our protagonist... he doesn't sound at all like the author of the previous year. The substance remains intact but the writing style has completely changed. The rest of the album stays on the tracks of the first two songs but simultaneously takes continuous deviations: Ninna nanna dell'uomo is indeed a unique track in Ivan's discography, both because it is sung in Abruzzese dialect and for the arrangement that skillfully combines piano and guitar in a way that won't happen frequently. But also Lugano addio, the only ballad in the entire album on which I don't intend to dwell excessively since more or less everything has been said about this track. I prefer instead to mention Eva, a story of a prostitute narrated with lyrics whose style bears similarities to that of Venditti, or Il topo nel formaggio, a simple invitation not to settle but to gnaw at all that is good, or even Il soldo, which, while being less focused than the previous two, tells the tale of life with Ivan's usual flair. In short, we could go on until nightfall, I Lupi is Ivan Graziani's first masterpiece, an album that, with its stories of everyday life and its raw and intense arrangements, makes it a timeless work, completely detached from the singer-songwriter model that was popular at that time.

The gem:
Motocross
 
4th: TRAVELS AND BAD WEATHER
When an artist realizes that at that moment they have written a beautiful handful of masterpieces, the first thing that comes to mind is to try to replicate the formula of those works, and by doing so, the final product will inevitably be decidedly inferior to the aforementioned masterpieces. Ivan, on the other hand, partially changed the formula, softening the guitar's role and focusing everything on refined ballads and well-constructed boogies. This is Travels and Bad Weather, an excellent album that diverges from its three predecessors: inside, we can find songs arranged and written masterfully like Siracusa, where we also encounter interesting changes in tempo, Isabella sul treno, an exhilarating story of a meeting on a train set to the rhythm of a frenzied boogie, and so on. There are also ballads worthy of the best Ivan, like Firenze, which is undoubtedly one of the most original lyrics ever written by Ivan, and Olanda, which, perhaps compared to Firenze, is less inspired but still carries a sense of transport. In all this, Ivan certainly hasn't thrown away his wild virtuosity, and here emerges the monumental Tutto questo cosa c'entra con il rock and roll and the wonderful Dada, a decidedly challenging piece that tackles many hot topics such as homosexuality and drug use among the youth. In this quartet of masterpieces, however, Radio Londra pops up with a not-too-inspired lyric but with remarkable arrangement, and Angelina, which adds little to the rest of the album in terms of both lyrics and arrangement. Despite these two small shortcomings, Travels and Bad Weather is an album that sounds wonderfully well-played to perfection. Perhaps the inspiration isn’t quite that of I lupi, and the arrangements have lost some of the hardness seen previously, yet it remains one of Ivan's best albums.

The gem:
Dada
 
Pixel

It's not the mixers' fault that I have the saddest voice, how come...
 
5th: IVANGARAGE
After a more commercial and less inspired period, Ivan decides in 1989 to rise up in grand style with a spicy, gritty, and inspired album like none he had created since the 80s. Ivangarage is an album that returns to rock; in fact, one could say that Ivangarage attempts the path of hard rock: it features tracks like Prudenza mai, a true manifesto of intent and style, Ora et labora, about the life of monks, Psychedelico, a pure blend of madness, Un uomo, where Ivan makes it clear that he is not finished yet; these 4 are the most extreme tracks ever produced by Ivan, where the guitar is played in a dirty and raw manner, even more so than on certain tracks from Agnese dolce Agnese (Fame, Veleno all'autogrill, Dottor Jeckill and Mister Hyde, Fuoco sulla collina). But Ivangarage is not just healthy and dirty rock: there are wonderful ballads like Guagliò guagliò and Radici nel vento, a sweet dedication to a deceased friend in Noi non moriremo mai, and I metallari, a piece that from its title hints at guitar riffs left and right but is actually a ballad that seeks to dismantle the figure of the metalhead. Additionally, we also have the new dark story Jhonny non c'entra, a (half) true story of a 7-year-old boy who kills his father, and the concluding and ironic E mò che vuoi, with lyrics that start off angry and turn romantic (a curious way to end an album...). What can be said in conclusion of this Ivangarage? An album that retrieves Ivan's pure vein, divided between sardonic and gritty rock and beautiful ballads, where the very limit of Italian rock is surpassed, creating hard rock episodes that are more reminiscent of British/American rock than made-in-Italy rock; in short, from any perspective one looks at it, Ivangarage will remain a unique case in our artist's discography and one of Ivan's episodes, alongside the 4 albums released between '77 and '80.

The gem:
Prudenza mai
 
6th: IVAN GRAZIANI
In '83 Ivan returns to play confidently, allowing the great Giampiero Reverberi to refine the arrangements, resulting in this Ivan Graziani. First of all, the album marks the evolution of the style from the previous Seni e coseni: on one hand, unforgettable ballads emerge such as Signora bionda dei ciliegi, Navi, and 140 km/h, which acquire a pathos and vigor that slightly diminished in some ballads of the previous album; on the other hand, we have hard and refined rock in the famous Il chitarrista and in the surreal story of Torna a casa Lassie. Throughout all this, the inspiration seems to have returned to the standards of our time, touching on the discovery of sex in Signora bionda dei ciliegi, a love story in the windy Trieste in 140 km/h, winning a night with a girl in a card game in Il chitarrista (which was co-written with Alfredo Rapetti, son of the legendary Mogol), and so on. To balance things out, Palla di gomma is included, where Reverberi's touch becomes almost bothersome, and the closing track Gran Sasso, a ballad with many good ideas but that doesn't captivate. Sales won’t pick up, despite the success of Il chitarrista and participation in various festivals, and like many other albums by Ivan, it will remain in obscurity. Nevertheless, Ivan Graziani is an album that regains the punch of the previous works, amplifying the slower moments while refining the more energetic ones, managing to avoid boredom almost entirely and capturing the listener’s attention with songs that are always original and meticulously crafted.

The gem:
Navi
 
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It’s not over yet...
 
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Laughing and joking around, I found @[sergio60] (or at least his old picture) for sale on Amazon.
 
8°: BREASTS AND OTHER THINGS
Only a year ago, Ivan was touching the sky with a finger; he was at the peak of his career and stood taller than many other singers of his caliber. But in 1981, it seems he wanted to change the scenery, and thus, the aforementioned Breasts and Other Things was born. A significant exercise in style that cost the singer-songwriter dearly, as sales plummeted dramatically. First of all, Breasts and Other Things is an album divided in half: the first side consists of ballads in which the guitar—Ivan's main instrument—almost completely disappears, offering gems like the somber tale of Pasqua, the sardonic prayer of Ehi padre eterno, and the love story between a student and a teacher in Signorina and Cleo, a track where a Greek girl keeps the protagonist company throughout the summer only to be forced to leave by September. On the second side, however, Ivan's guitar riffs return forcefully in every possible style, touching on rock, blues, and reggae, but this time the tracks seem less interesting: there are uninspired songs like Tigre and others where the lyrics are practically used as a pretext for a stylistic exercise like Digos boogie. However, we have the amusing and absurd Oh mamma mia and Ugo l'italiano, though the lyrics are too cryptic to fully grasp the message. Breasts and Other Things is Ivan's first real outburst towards genres he had never experimented with, which he will not attempt again, or if he does (like in the 80s arrangements of Nove), he won't succeed as he did with this album.

The gem:
Cleo
 
Hey @[Zimmy] and @[Ditta] Sugar will sing God is dead... I won't tell you where, I won't tell you how.
 
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Hey guys... twenty-eight years ago CSAR was released! Already 28 years!
 
Ladies and gentlemen, I am quite proud to present the ranking of Ivan Graziani's albums from worst to best. Let’s dive right in:

13th: PIKNIC
After participating in Sanremo 1985 with the melodically good Franca ti amo, Ivan released this work, which unfortunately, or fortunately, can be found in the depths of this ranking. Unfortunately, because it is an album that partially recovers the pyrotechnic verve that had been starting to fade in recent years, featuring some tracks that recall certain past moments (Zio gorilla and Rosanna non sei tu) and others with excellently constructed bases that also blend Ivan's majestic guitar (Ed è felicità and La mia isola, the latter accompanied by a great and compelling arpeggio). Fortunately, because upon listening, it is clear that this is an album put together to adhere to a contract, especially for certain songs written just to make numbers, such as the syrupy and banal Soffice or the terrifying Ho paura dei temporali. In Piknic, then, we find the greatest drop in style that Ivan has ever had in his entire career, namely Baby love, which can be found in position number 9 of the tracklist: a plastic and irritating pop arrangement accompanies an adolescent, banal, and pointless text (comparisons to Pupo will come later; too many have already compared it to the pen of the Pupone). A very easy piece, which will not surprisingly be chosen as the single to promote the album. An album that has some nice ideas but also a lot of stuff thrown in just to comply with the record label’s order, representing the lowest point of the national guitarist.

The gem:
La mia isola
 
Oro nero

THE END!