It eventually comes for everyone. The time for reflections, to draw conclusions, to put an end to a cycle to start another one.
Some have done it three times (Queen), others have created unique masterpieces, some do it almost every Christmas to boost their income... could Elio e le Storie Tese possibly miss the GH appointment? Of course not, and the ineffable 'monociglio' honors us with this "Meglio del loro meglio vol 1" (an inescapable prelude to a vol 2, a menacing warning.... sooner or later there will be another one so be careful.....).
A bubbling cauldron of all the best (or worst) that the Lombard band has managed to create from the beginnings (more or less) up to 1997, the year of release for this prestigious compilation. In perfect style Elio, from delightful interludes between tracks (you know who sends you lots of greetings??? THIS DICK!!!! AHAHAHHAHAH!!!!) to the album cover, halfway between an Abba record and the cover of "E tu" by good old Baglioni.
Elio knows he has some lethal bullets in the chamber and fires them one after another, without respite for the unfortunate about to embark on a mad journey through this twisted yet brilliant mind. It starts with "Born to be Abramo" (unreleased), with guest star the original Patrick Hernandez dusted off for the occasion in great form. The song is nothing more than a cover of "Born to be alive" by the same Hernandez, replayed and enriched in Elio style, narrating prophet Abraham's indecision on whether to follow the "Word of Yahweh" or not. Afterwards, there's no more playing around, the big classics begin.
Sad stories, like that of the astronaut overwhelmed by beautiful schisms within himself, who has soiled his spacesuit and now doesn't know how to disperse these decaying cells into the cosmos, or caustic portraits of doormat men enslaved by the mammary gland, unable to rebel against the current bimbo who uses them but then gets three meters of tongue (the tongue of love) shoved in her mouth by any Furio Terzapi. With that cheeky face like daddy Barzotti....
"Tapparella" is the chronicle of a sad middle school party, where the guest discovers his name is not on the glass, there's no friendship or sympathy, he asks for Fonzi and gets leftovers, and can't even play spin the bottle, Christ, whyyyyy????? Of course, noteworthy are "Pippero" (choir of Bulgarian voices joining fingers and rotating phalanges, befriending people with different skin colors) and "Supergiovane", an apology for a young superhero (Mangoni -sic-) fighting against the establishment (Abatantuono), sacrificing his Tepas to uselessly save the life of his friend Catoblepa who fell into the government's trap, a bathtub of non-alcoholic Moro.
"John Holmes" celebrates the father of all chips crunched by Rocco Siffredi, teaching us that even if as a kid everyone mocked you for your small size, be like John, don't be discouraged and you'll be able to buy a bike when you're older. Obviously, you must always possess the thirty cm of artistic dimension (a phrase that entered my daily jargon) otherwise things get complicated. The tricolor fresco of "La terra dei cachi" is a must, as is "Abitudinario" (if you too blow your nose in the elevator and then check what you've produced, how much it weighs, and if there’s danger for the elevator itself, don't criticize, you're like him) and a live reinterpretation of "Cara ti amo", where Elio demonstrates tenor vocal ability in telling the story of two lovers who don’t really understand each other.
"Alfieri" is a piece that (says the booklet) was recorded live somewhere I can't remember and never performed again or previously published. It’s a four-four nursery rhyme where the four standard-bearers of bel canto at the service of the Japanese man introduce themselves to the audience with nonsense (besides living between Loreto and Turro, when I’m happy... well).
Intentionally left at the end is track 6: "L'eterna lotta tra il bene e il male", never heard before (by me) and immediately loved. Oriental-flavored atmospheres, a hymn to mystical India, land of Indian saints, Indian poets, and Indian navigators.... but then a voice breaks in from an answering machine, a woman accuses Elio and his boot-wearing musicians of being "a man of shit like the voice you sing" and of having ruined her son with those dirty and filthy songs. In the background to four minutes of dense insults, a mantra repeats "Very good, very bad". Listen to it when you're so mad at someone that you unleash the terrible madam. Played in Elio's style (divinely), arranged in Elio's style (masterfully), with a tracklist in Elio's style (to laugh and reflect upon yesterday's clouds of our present tomorrow)... what more is there to say?
A must-have starting point to fully discover a unique artist in his genre, to trace the original works of the tracks and find many little pearls missing here (what nostalgia for that little forest of my imagination with those crazy little animals that make me laugh when I am happy, sad, and even in-between....) .....and be careful because Rigoletto says a really nice sentence.....
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