Gianmaria Testa
Montgolfieres

THE REVIEW

In the summer of '99, a German friend of mine played me an audiotape featuring an Italian singer-songwriter I had never heard before, Gianmaria Testa. On a first, quick listen on the beach, he sounded a bit like Paolo Conte, but there was something in him that set him apart from the lawyer, something that resonated more with me, as a sound sensation.

The album I listened to was Mongolfieres, and I was so struck by it that I learned it by heart in a week. Then I asked myself: how long had it been since I learned Italian music by heart so quickly? Perhaps since I listened to the singer-songwriters of the seventies. But beware, Gianmaria Testa does not have such a simple approach, as may seem the case with some contemporary Italian singer-songwriters; there is something in his chords that lingers, after five years and many of his songs listened to, from time to time there is something in each of our experiences that he has sung about that gently comes to mind. I've heard him called the singer of the rain, and it's very true, in fact, it's raining as I write and listen to him, but it's not just rain, also stolen glances, beers in bars, marital crises, and budding loves.

Describing the songs individually doesn't make much sense; if you're interested, enjoy the entire album without interruptions, and do not try to make a "greatest hits" because it doesn't make sense, they are all beautiful.