Flavio Giurato
Per Futili Motivi

Flavio Giurato - "For Trivial Reasons" 1978

Debut of a unique figure in our singer-songwriter landscape who, in just over half a decade, released three memorable albums before vanishing from the music scene for almost twenty years (and reappeared just a few years ago, still at high levels). The 'trivial reasons' in the title refer to a Roman boy who volunteers for World War II, strong in his fascist beliefs with which he has lived since birth. He will come to know 'fires and ruins' and the true face of dictatorship and war.

The album is crafted with a blend of Romanesco dialect and Italian, with the early songs, when the protagonist is still a cocky young man, favoring the dialectal idiom. The young man, who turned 18 on the eve of Italy's entry into the war (June 10, 1940), rushes to enlist and immediately after, performs an unavoidable act for that generation: a visit to the brothel. However, it is a disappointment: he meets a prostitute who cries and talks about war as devastation and as an opportunity to kill and be killed. But it's already time to leave for the front, and the last goodbyes are shared with his mother and girlfriend in the poignant 'two voices'.

Here begins the second part of the album: the one that leads to the final catharsis that starts with the retreat from Russia ('eagles and crows'), continues with the girlfriend's betrayal, and concludes with the war in his own home with the bombings of Rome in 'A Bad Gust of Wind': "they're bombing, bombing down in San Lorenzo; in Rome there's no Pope, but what Pope, there are my creatures..." We finally witness the desperate encounter of two lonely souls among the city's ruins, making love as the last and first opportunity for salvation. In the concluding 'Story of a Tavern', Giurato compares fascism and fascists to a noisy and greedy table, who make a run for it when it's time to pay, without taking responsibility: "Gentlemen, the bill... ... they've all left..."

A great album that's not easy to approach. To understand the fascinating continuity of the story, at least for those who don't instantly grasp the dialectal parts (which are, however, almost entirely comprehensible after a few attentive listens). Only then will we fully enjoy the beautiful melodies of the singing, the brilliant intertwining of voices, the handcrafted yet successful and elegant arrangements with the guitars at the forefront.

Giurato might have surpassed himself four years later with 'Il Tuffatore', before daring the impossible with the experiments of 'Marco Polo' in the ill-fated mid-eighties. But even here, all his compositional qualities are evident, in the bold combinations of harmonies that chase and perfectly intersect with each other, in the sparse, sharp lyrics suitable for the deeply evocative fire, in an interpretation far from his peak but already on the path to subsequent excellence.

Highly recommended.