•
Rating: We are in 1989, Banco, after having indelibly marked the Italian discography in the '70s, has been in an apparently irreversible crisis for some time and in search of a new convincing path. Unfortunately, the '80s saw a clear turn towards pop, stringing together a series of four albums without history or glory, yet capable of keeping the group afloat with easy sounds. At the end of the decade, Di Giacomo and company try to stir the waters with two more or less successful moves: the first is the reissue of "Donna Plautilia" containing the group's first recordings dating back twenty years, more of a curiosity than a production capable of reviving their fortunes (very modest circulation); the second is to broaden the space for its spearhead (at least at that time), namely the unique voice of Francesco to whom the album with a rather bizarre title is credited.
The songs are co-written by Di Giacomo and Vittorio Nocenzi, the line-up lacks Gianni Nocenzi, who is excellently replaced by his sister on the piano, while on guitar Rodolfo Maltese is still present, soon to exit, and already here assisted by Paolo Carta. The group is completed by Ricco on bass and Calderoni on drums.
Despite the lack of confidence in the work even on the part of the record label Ricordi, which relegates the imprimatur to the ephemeral label Iperspazio while retaining distribution, the work as a whole is of a good level, despite its distinctly pop connotation, enriched by excellent arrangements. To realize this, just listen to "Sandali" and the excellent introduction by Giammarco on sax.
Noteworthy is also the non-incisive participation of Sam Moore in "Non ci siamo," a fairly anonymous and repetitive track, Sam Moore who on this occasion also records with Di Giacomo the valuable version (the n-th...) of "Hey Joe!" which is finally included in the reissue of the record released at the end of the following year and again in the further reissue named: "Banco d'accusa" in 2004.
Among the other tracks, I highlight the intimate "E domani," a piece decidedly supported by our hero, with excellent accompaniment by Letti, "Qualcosa che rimane" with the interesting Nocenzi-keyboards and Maltese-guitar duet, the famous and friendly "Lilliput," the TV theme of the homonymous RAI 3 broadcast from a few years ago. Catchy but decidedly predictable is the opening track, while more appreciable and demanding is "Cielo" with an excellent introductory aplomb, though a bit scholastic.
In conclusion, I note the excellent timbral rendition of the CD version; conversely, the LP version appears penalized and "closed." Difficult to judge, considering the artists' background, three stars seem insufficient to me, but four really too many precisely out of respect for the many previous albums of decidedly superior level, so I round down (reluctantly).
Loading comments slowly
