Francesco De Gregori
De Gregori

THE REVIEW

The character of this album seems to be born from a profound disappointment. A kind of pain that leads one to reassess the artistic direction previously taken and suggests leaving experimentation for more suitable times. I am talking about the Palalido protest (1976) and the human and artistic crisis that followed that episode.

De Gregori withdrew for two years and eventually emerged with this album, which abandons what the previous 'Bufalo Bill' had hinted at in terms of musical and literary daring, making room for reflections where sweetness and humility move. "Generale", a song in which the rejection of war is not expressed with strong proclamations and slogans, but with the reiteration of familiar and intimate images, almost conveying the inner, more than material, destructiveness that a conflict generates. With "Natale", it seems like an appendix to the introductory piece, the same care for the description of an intimacy to be absolutely preserved, this time with a soothing 12/8 and a final accordion making us feel the snow. With "L'impiccato" we move into a chronicle-police realm, narrating the events of an interrogation in a police station amid violence, ruthlessness, and, in the end, death. "Il 56" reaffirms the family component, while "La Campana" retraces the painful process of retreating from the scene.

"Renoir", in a double version, returns more hermetically to the period of artistic exile, while "Babbo In Prigione" (a gem in Our Man's repertoire) tells yet another domestic scene of violence endured and thankfully now distant. "Raggio Di Sole" (dedicated to the birth of his twins) is a lyrical expression of what awaits on the path of life. "Due Zingari" deserves a deeper analysis. It is one of Francesco's most "cinematic" tracks, a close-up of the protagonists telling their story, which slowly, like a reverse tracking shot, begins to understand the environmental context where the two young people move, the field, and finally, the world passing indifferent to their stories, represented by trucks on the highway. Corresponding to this last image, an oboe insinuates itself into the instrumental fabric, as if to move the perspective away, making room for the sax solo (entrusted to Mario Schiano), which consecrates this stunning and desperate urban painting.

In this album, De Gregori touches upon perhaps more achieved lyricism, aided by a reserved and acoustic musical character, based essentially on guitars and piano, careful never to overshadow the confessions of a wounded soul. It is the album with which Francesco definitively takes flight in his own artistic sky, leaving misunderstandings and misinterpretations of his work behind forever.

In De Gregori's career it perhaps represents the turning point and, at the same time, delivers to listeners an oasis of poetic and emotional depth.