Giorgio Canali & Rossofuoco
Undici canzoni di merda con la pioggia dentro

And I don't even know what day it is
but I'm sure it will be worse than yesterday.
See, there's the sun and
it's raining on my thoughts.
Maybe there's a better world
but surely it's somewhere else.

"Fuochi Supplementari - 2018"

What compels me to write about Giorgio Canali on a chilly October evening? Honestly, I don't know. You can't have a ready answer for every doubt, every dilemma, every uncertainty, every unresolved and never-ending personal torment. It would be like living your life under the constant and strict control of a script that isn't written but which we feel obligated to memorize, under penalty of losing direction of our ego. Yes...our ego...in certain cases, we'd be much better off having less control over ourselves and our innermost thoughts; instead, we should live life in a jovial and carefree manner, without overthinking the "whys" and "wherefores." Then we think about it, calm and content with ourselves when it suits us, and realize that our existence is placed in a world that's obscene, perverse, racist, criminal, deceitful, and underhanded; all these elements of "great hope" can only be brought to the surface and combated by singer-songwriters worthy of such a title. One of them is undoubtedly Giorgio Canali.

With his loyal Rossofuoco, Canali releases on October 5, 2018, an album with a rather original title, which is actually a reference to the concluding track of his old record ROJO (the track in question is Orfani Dei Cieli); "Undici Canzoni Di Merda Con La Pioggia Dentro" reveals itself to the listener's ear as a work full of rock apocalypse and a sense of seeking one's miserable existence, filled today with violence, death, superficiality, and indifference.

Musically significant is the song Radioattività, a musical backdrop of electric guitar and distant drums, evolving into a delicate march. The song, intimate, speaks of a man who has lost his woman or his beloved in a world fallen apart after a nuclear war. Also powerful is Piove Finalmente Piove, a joyful rain dance: the rain is sick, nuclear, yet it provides life anyway. And there's happiness, as there was when the drought of 2017 finally ended. It rains on bureaucracy, on state secrets, on trivial new shoes: it rains on dictators, on the hypocrisies of politics, on bills, on abused women, on Barbara D’Urso, and the RAI fee.

Of remarkable and unforgettable intensity is also the track Emilia Parallela: pounding drums and a cross of guitars, where our singer brands with fire the hypocrisy of his native land, he, who was born in Predappio—the very town of Benito Mussolini. A land that denies a glorious past, thoughts in frenzied acceleration like "a pesky pinwheel." The grand finale is a long stream of consciousness of pure fury.

Substantially and in conclusion, a coherent and deeply sensible album, yet lightyears away from the artistic heights previously reached by Canali.

But it's still a great album.