Gianna Nannini
Maschi e altri

THE REVIEW

The question that spontaneously comes to mind is the following: who is, who was, who could have been Gianna Nannini? I was born in '90, and precisely in that year, she came out with one of the most revolting musical atrocities ever conceived from the times of Australopithecus to nowadays. From what I have "lived" firsthand, I know an "aged" rock relic who swims without particular distinctions in the swamp of the Italian radio mainstream, between collaborations with Jovanotti, Fabri Fibra, et similia; I admit that "iooooooooh oh iooooooooh" doesn't really bother me at all, it's a good piece with a fairly original arrangement but, apart from this, my thought on today's Gianna Nannini can be easily summarized in a clear and simple "bah!"

Eh, but there's a "but": a couple of years ago I happened to listen to an entire fairly recent collection ("Giannabest" if I'm not mistaken) of the supposed queen of rock from our home; the context was somewhat peculiar, suffice it to say that the alternative was none other than Ricky Martin, so I heartily encouraged this friend of mine to opt for what I considered the "lesser evil." Of course, I already knew the various "Fotoromanza" and "Bello e impossibile" but only in passing, I had never really paid attention, but, listening with a more curious, attentive, and especially more trained ear, my perspective changed completely. I had to "admit" that there was quite a lot of good stuff in there, stuff that I really liked. In particular, "I maschi," the only unreleased track from this 1987 collection, which seals her most flourishing and inspired period, was a small electroshock; that romantic atmosphere, those international and classy sounds, a way of singing that at the time truly rocked, managed to convey real passion and charisma, the "pop poetical" text. It was a true revelation, I couldn't help thinking that I would have liked to write such a piece.

Gianna Nannini, a girl from an aristocratic background, her brother Alessandro made a great mark in Formula 1 of the Senna, Prost, Mansell, and Piquet era, had a contract with Ferrari in his pocket, if not for a helicopter crash in which he lost a hand (incidentally, it was Ivan Capelli who ended up in that Ferrari, who burned a career up to that point as a rising star, open and closed parenthesis). Um, as I was saying: Gianna Nannini's background can make some people grimace, but it undoubtedly was crucial in acquiring a less provincial mentality, unlike "proletarians" Vasco Rossi and Ligabue, who were born, lived, and decomposed (but apparently not yet buried) as "phenomena" from the apartment landing; the fact that today her name is often associated with said figures says a lot about how far she's fallen, but I want to remember her as she was. A brilliant and original artist, for whom a highly esteemed producer like Conny Plank took notice; not only for "advertising" reasons. In the cosmopolitan and imperial USA, Prince stirred up a hornet's nest with "Darling Nikki," Gianna proposed the exact same theme, with an even more explicit approach, a good five years before; and "America" is not just an effective text but also a great vocal performance and a cutting-edge sound for Italian standards of the time, which already "hinted" between the lines that synth/rock shift that made her unmistakable.

Even "Bello e impossibile", the most inflated track, heard and reheard among the ten present here, in the end is almost a masterpiece compared to the similarly poetic sappiness that she offered us from "Meravigliosa creatura" onwards; "poor" Gianna, that voice which was her extra gear at the time ended up completely trapping her, she found nothing better to do than to wrap herself in the same exact register, adapting it for stuff lacking even a hint of freshness and inventiveness from that period. Besides the splendid "I maschi" and an obvious but equally remarkable "Fotoromanza", I would particularly highlight "Ragazzo dell'Europa", with its evocative and melancholic atmosphere enriched by excellent ethnic suggestions, "Avventuriera" with its compelling on-the-road charm, and the exquisite ballad "Profumo".

How beautiful Gianna was, she was explosive and vital, impertinent just enough, and she knew how to stand out from the crowd even with a significant stylistic taste. If I ever had the chance to meet her, the first thing I would do is have her autograph a copy of this collection, then ask her on the spot what it feels like to become a kind of fetish for the likes of the next Emma Marrone. Why do I write this? Because one shouldn't just shrug it off, in the end, Nannini was not the first talented artist swallowed up by the music-biz grinder and certainly won't be the last, but this means that deep down I've grown fond of her; so I care a bit, and it pains me to see her reduced to a pale caricature of herself.