Fabi Silvestri Gazzè
Il Padrone della Festa

I confess I spent a lot of time thinking about how to start this review. Well, I have come to terms with myself, set aside my pride, and admit I couldn't find any decent introduction. Funny, right? You can spend hours, days on careful and patient listening and subsequent reflection on a piece of music, and then panic when faced with a blank page that shuts off the writer's tap.

So, I started with what I don’t know.

Sure, I would have liked to write in detail about the re-union (or perhaps it's better to say union) of three friends who, finally, after years, can come out and propose an album together. I would have liked to, but I’ve never been a huge fan of the three; to be honest, I’ve always found Gazzé too long-winded, Fabi too sentimental, Silvestri a bit too silly. There you go, tickets for the prejudice fair. It would have been a good starting point to discuss their respective discographies, especially since this album represented a milestone in my eyes.
And so I find myself listening to this album without the proper background to discuss it, like a stilt-walker given new gear on the first day. At the time, I must admit, even against myself, my first reaction was amazing, though it was tempered by the first singles that since April 2014 hinted at the album's ingredients (in order, they released Life is Sweet, L'amore non esiste, and Come mi pare).
So, I won't indulge here in extensive nonsense to confuse and move people's feelings, as I have often seen more illustrious colleagues do; because I’m certain that, at the end of the day, these three somehow played along with it, and in the long run, it must have backfired on them too. And trust me, it's a shame, because all those good sentiments flaunted around Italy risk overshadowing the overall value of this work. More than for a few scattered songs (among the best, I would mention the very refined Alzo le mani and the up-tempo tracks Life is Sweet and Come mi pare), I believe that an album like this gets the best out of itself when considered with the unified perspective of a single, successful, artistic getaway. You can strongly, very strongly feel that every passage of this album has been meticulously crafted, and yet somehow the three Romans managed almost always to prioritize spontaneity in their recordings – the guitar rustles in Alzo le mani or the playful nature of their friendship (L'avversario) being exemplary here. Watching them sing together sends a shiver down your spine, exactly what I felt the first time I saw the magnificent unplugged version of Life is Sweet in a German studio, and it was precisely at that moment I understood that comparisons with the greats of the past – did someone say Crosby Stills Nash & Young? – were not exactly far-fetched. Strangely, the spontaneity remains for most of the album, despite (or maybe thanks to) the lineup participating in the recordings: among many, it's worth mentioning a great Roberto Angelini (a talent we still struggle to fully trust) and the polished but always great Fabrizio Bosso.

In short, aside from the banalities and usual clichés, everything works. We have on our hands a great album: well-played, well-packaged, with an admirable blend from those who composed it, and you can be sure this is rare, and always has been. Even the lyrics deserve more than a casual listen, but we already knew that. Certainly, the three singles are among the best pieces on the album; but Canzone di Anna, a posthumous single with its Battisti-esque coda so dear to disciple Fabi, the miniature Il dio delle piccole cose, where Gazzé is more restrained and less verbose, or the playful third-worldism of Spigolo Tondo, featuring Silvestri in great form, prove cohesion and value beyond any prejudice. (Incidentally, the one of the three who has always seemed a step ahead to me is Daniele, perhaps because he plays multiple instruments excellently in concerts, or maybe simply because I feel he has more to offer at the moment compared to the other two. We’ll see).

Much was said about this album upon its release, and I am somewhat sorry to discuss it only now. Some wanted to shine the spotlight on the new supergroup, while others even invoked the famous sacred monsters of the sixties, but it’s known that labeling is our favorite hobby and ultimately helps to sell better. Want some advice? If you like folk, appreciate vocal arrangements, are a fan of "intelligent" and finely electronic music, but most importantly you're not a hardcore fan – as there are still many around – of these three singer-songwriters who are no longer underground (and who still sometimes play at being so), this is the best new album of 2014 you have yet to listen to. For everyone else, head to the checkout with the Pino Daniele box set.

«We did well. The day after the end of this two-year journey everything is even clearer. I could only have done it with Daniele and Max. And it’s not about skill. There are many talented singers and musicians, that’s not it. Sharing applause requires men who have made peace with their own identity, who have found a balance between what they’ve received and lost, who know how to enjoy reflected joys, who know how to wait, step back, and listen. The stage can exalt all of our vanities, repressions, as well as our generosity. It would not have been possible for me to share it with those who treat playing and singing as a demonstration of strength, like an athletic competition. […] That’s why the last picture of our journey doesn’t instinctively come from last night’s unforgettable concert but rather from an intersection on a random road in our dusty, heart-wrenching journey in South Sudan where we found each other. What distinguishes us in some way, not so much three artists who enjoy themselves on stage, but rather three men who enjoy getting dirty with the earth. Thank you. And above all thank you, Daniele and Max, because what we have now even more than what we had before is a simple word, often used wrongly, which is friendship, the one that first supports and then pushes forward, so forward it is. With my affection, my esteem, and my gratitude». (N.F.)