Enzo Jannacci
The Best

A long-cherished project by father Enzo and son Paolo, here the author of all the arrangements (which are beautiful, by the way) came to light in November 2006, after two years of work.

This is a best of its kind. Jannacci chooses 32 songs from his vast repertoire, plus three unreleased tracks, and recomposes them in his own way, with new arrangements and new, let's say, moods. Some things are left out, and they are important things ("Ho visto un re," "Faceva il palo," "L'Armando"), and generally, the '60s are somewhat more sacrificed compared to the '70s and '80s, but the work is so impressive (2 CDs for two and a half hours of music) that in the end, some omissions are forgiven.

From a "Vengo anch'io no tu no" in Duke Ellington version to a "Giovanni telegrafista" with the bass in the foreground and a poignant final invocation ("Alba è urgente"), there's plenty to savor. The first act flows with, among others, a surprising "Soldato Nencini" and a "Io e te" jazzed to the point of emotion, a "Vincenzina e la fabbrica" drawn out to the unbelievable, and yet another variation on the theme of "Quelli che," with particular praise for the Italian version (originally in Milanese dialect) "Donna che dormivi." A special mention for the extraordinary "La costruzione" (which alone would be worth the purchase of the album), a translation of Chico Barque de Hollande on the so-called 'white deaths': it starts quietly, recited, explodes, and you wish it would never end. Plus the unreleased tracks: "Rien ne va plus" (the Jannaccian anthem of the latter period, "Brutta puttana che è la vita"), the amusing "Il ladro di ombrelli" and the hyper, perhaps a bit too much, melancholic "Mamma che luna che c'era stasera."

Slightly understated, but it's a minor detail, the second act. However, it starts off thrillingly, with the joke-like duet on "Bartali" in the company of Paolo Conte. Then a series of songs from the latest period, 2001-2003 (among others, the only ones not re-arranged), only to recover with the more famous tracks from the early period. And here it soars: stunning, as it was already forty years earlier, "Sei minuti all'alba," to be listened to note by note; surprising the retrieval of the long-forgotten "Il Duomo di Milano" which contrasts with the dancing "Per un basin"; nice the new arrangement of the age-old "Andava a Rogoredo," less convincing that of "El portava i scarp del tennis," a pity, and the cheeky, overwhelming "Veronica."

Of course, there's more (I haven't mentioned "Ci vuole orecchio," "Sfiorisci bel fiore," "Gli zingari," "Ohè sun chi"), but it's worth noting that it comes in a very prestigious package, oh yes, because the set is accompanied by a preface by the late Gianni Mura, a genius, who among other things defines Jannacci as a pain in the neck, but a pain in the neck sui generis. And how the Milan he sang about, if indeed disappeared, already in 2006, is destined to remain eternal, perhaps even a bit legendary, precisely thanks to Jannacci's work, the pain in the neck.