Francesco Renga
Francesco Renga

An introduction that tastes like confirmation, a point of arrival for a new beginning. This is "Francesco Renga," the first solo work of someone who until that moment had only been the vocalist of Timoria, shoulder to shoulder with the mind of Omar Pedrini, bringing to life a band like few have been seen since their "departure."

Renga starts from these 15 tracks to reveal himself to the public without the support of Pedrini and peers, to demonstrate that he too, alone, has something to say. These are 15 tracks with a rock flavor with a hint of pop, a sweet aftertaste that lightens any claim of "heaviness," almost as if to cut every bridge with what had been his daily life until then, made up of amplifiers cranked to the maximum on distorted guitars.
Perhaps little songs, some might say, but with a great protagonist, an unmistakable common thread that unites them all: the unique voice that manages to move even on simple chords and predictable transitions of "Splendido," with a technique that still today is an unmistakable trademark of the Renga-style. Perhaps rougher and a tad more immature than previous works, the vocal power here unfolds through tracks that are deliberately more rock (at least in intention) than those that will follow, almost indicating an "evolving" artist, far from maturity and from feeling "arrived."

An artist who leaves the scene through the main door and reappears from the service entrance, wearing a mask that covers him only partially. Pieces like "Ancora di lei" are the very essence of this album: slow start, pop progression, and explosion of guitars and above all that voice, that powerful and warm high note that arrives unexpectedly and almost takes one's breath away. At ease in both low, vibrant passages and high ones, Renga tries to distance himself from his past in the perhaps best way: reaffirming a personality that Pedrini may have overshadowed a bit.
Among banal and nonetheless insignificant episodes like "Mai così" and "Anche per te," we find his statement of intent (in the future, glaringly disregarded), "Mr. Rockstar" and the beautiful "Affogo baby" which was (smartly) one of the launch singles of the entire work. A piece that certainly gets remembered even if it carries nothing original or innovative, perhaps due to its catchy melody, suitable for being whistled or hummed under one's breath.

Note for "Venerdì," where the foundations of what will be Renga's future path are laid. This piece coincides so well with those of "Tracce" that it could have easily found a place in the subsequent work without the slightest dissonance, yet here it closes a CD that is, all in all, rock leaning toward pop, as if its author himself did not yet know which side to stand on.
(Pen)ultimate word on the concluding "Impressioni di settembre," which connects like a bridge to those verses of piano and voice that conclude (pretentious "ghost track" experiment?) "Tracce" (but also the same "La nuda verità"); here too it's only Renga with his most powerful instrument accompanying the piano notes in a piece with not easy nor particularly captivating text and melody, but that still represents a good "closure" for a work that reaches sufficiency projecting Francesco onto the main stage of Italian pop.

Special mention for the additional track in the reissue of this CD, which followed about a year after the first release. This is "Raccontami," a piece that earned Renga the critics' award at Sanremo in 2001, where he presented himself in the young category. Trivial lyrics and immediately appealing music definitively launched him while simultaneously abandoning him to the sad fate that led him to become what he is today: a sad copy of himself, abandoned by the fans of Timoria who managed to survive for a couple of albums with Pedrini on vocals (!!!), abandoned by his earliest supporters (myself included) for having become a sad puppet manipulated by the "system." I agree with whoever will argue that he has never been a great artist, but I counter this statement with the firm belief that before "Angelo" he really had something to convey.

If you're looking for the real Renga, you won't find him either here nor in the useless sappiness of "Camere con vista," rather it should be sought in "Tracce," the true nature of one of the male voices most extraordinarily "wasted" in today's sad-pop panorama.