Ghemon
Orchidee

Yesterday, after a long wait, Orchidee, the new album by Gianluca Picariello, better known as Ghemon, was finally released. Orchidee is a completely played album thanks to the contribution of some of the most important musicians on the Italian scene: Fabio Rondanini from Calibro 35 on drums, Ramiro Levy from Selton on guitar, Patrick Benifei from Casino Royale on piano, Enrico Gabrielli, also from Calibro 35, on keyboards... and so on. Ghemon also enlisted the help of Marco Olivi and Tommaso Colliva, in addition to his trusted colleague and friend Fid Mella, for the composition and production of the album.

Premise: I am a black music enthusiast. Therefore, I will probably see things from my little corner and be repetitive.

Anyway...

With Orchidee, Ghemon has managed to create a sort of milestone in Italian music, a new frontier of hip hop, an album with an international flavor as we rarely hear in Italy. The album, after all, is full of black music, even though the most striking thing is the feeling of both homogeneity and originality that is present from the first listen. The musical references that I, in my small way, hope to have caught, are the "groovy" essentiality of the rhythm section of hip hop and neo soul legends like The Roots, J Dilla, and D'Angelo, and the ethereal musicality of English soulman Lewis Taylor. Ghemon has succeeded in scenting the album with these essences and then adding his own musical and songwriting "meat," the result of a long artistic journey. Last but not least, the lyrics, one of Our Man's strengths: essentiality and stylistic research are the two main ingredients of his storytelling, which has also undergone further evolution.

The album opens with "Adesso Sono Qui," a true manifesto of Ghemon's new musical course: "questlovian" drums, pulsating bass, and liquid keyboards give the track a lively soul-funk color that perfectly blends with the artist's flow and singing. Funky attitude funky continues with "Quando Imparerò," a self-ironic song featuring a cerebral drum and a metric that plays on the song's rhythm. It continues with "Da Lei (con lo Scudo e la Spada)," an urban love story. It starts with a nice "hip hop style" beat that opens into a chorus that faintly recalls the atmospheres of Lewis Taylor's albums (damn the day you made me discover him dear G.). "Fuoriluogo Ovunque" is soul music seasoned with a good dose of jazz, truly a splendid piece both musically and lyrically. The bridge is a tribute to groove geniuses such as D'Angelo and J Dilla ("squantized," cit.). A certain jazz "savoir" remains in the remains of the keyboards of "Il Mostro," a restless piece that tells of the difficulties encountered when living far from home. Once again (cf. guitar), I catch "taylorian" echoes here and there, but probably this is a disease of mine from which I cannot (and do not want to) detox. "Smetti di Parlare" is instead one of the two entirely sung tracks of the album, where songwriting and black music find a meeting point. Here you see the full evolution of the artist, a kind of endpoint on one side and a starting point on the other, as I said before. Hats off because very few people really manage to do it. The atmosphere changes with "Tutto Sbagliato," perhaps the most hip hop track of the album; I feel the spirit of Hocus Pocus that possesses the instrumentalist (those "lumps" in the verse drive me crazy!), and Dj Tsura at the end winks at C2C and transforms the scratch into poetry, while the lyrics are, according to Ghemon himself, the most socially engaged on the album. "Nessuno Vale Quanto Te" is essentially a soul track in which the impervious musical journey of our hero is described, a track that "highlights all the effort I made to get here." The next track is "Ogni Benedetto Giorno," which tells of the stress and daily struggles, but in the end exhorts the listener to look at the sun, which "comes to get you, takes you away." Long live life d***! Yes, until "Crimine" arrives, a bitter yet beautiful story that tells of two people wounded by life who, upon meeting, heal each other. Fabulous chord progression of the verse, perfectly in line with the pathos of the piece. The chorus is sung (as in most of the tracks) and sometimes you wonder if it is really the same artist who raps first and sings later. The album draws to a close with "Pomeriggi svogliati," a snapshot of a gray and dull day, which carries us to "Veleno," a soul piece, all sung. Soul, got it?!? Echoes of Motown here and there and the usual essential, perfect lyrics. The last track is (not coincidentally) "L'Ultima Linea." Oh, Ghemon, Gilmar, Gianluca: you couldn't think of a better conclusion. It is an absolute piece, it has everything I like; hip hop, soul, bossa nova, jazz... I hear J Dilla, D'Angelo (I like to think the title is a veiled reference to "The Line"), Lewis Taylor; I hear Marvin Gaye, Erykah Badu, the Roots, Gregory Porter; I also hear Italian songwriters, Stevie Wonder, Donny Hathaway, and Slum Village. It is a perfect piece that seems like a prelude to something that will come and perhaps will be even greater.

In conclusion: chapeau. You did it, Gianluca, you made it. You created a work, an album with a sound all your own, with your music, your words, and your singing; an album of well-made music by someone who has always loved and cultivated music. You realized your dream and gave great joy to those who, like me, besides listening to your music, have always cultivated what I love to call "soul music," the music that disrupted my life and that you helped to grow and appreciate. So thank you from the bottom of my heart, congratulations, and may "Orchi" and "Dee" protect you.  

"...now I am here, where you left me, in my arms I hold what I have become.."