Giorgio Gaber
L'Asse D'Equilibrio

Truly commendable, this record label MBO (otherwise unknown to me) which a few years ago, after obtaining the relative license, decided to reissue in facsimile version, moreover adding seven diverse bonus tracks by Gaber which differ quite significantly from the cohesion, significance, and depth of the twelve original tracks of this almost concept album, originally released in February 1968 by RI-FI (with whom the then 29-year-old Giorgio Gaber had only recorded some singles until that time; this, indeed, will remain his only 33 RPM album of unreleased tracks released for RI-FI).

"L'asse d'equilibrio," in my opinion, constitutes the best rebuttal to all those unprepared and makeshift commentators who, in the numerous celebratory articles that appeared following Gaber's death, repeated ad nauseam — perhaps having heard it second-hand and then copied from each other? Who knows... — the stale and untrue assertion that only the introduction of theater-song in 1970 represented the clear divide between the "disengaged" Gaber — a popular romantic chanson singer, a charming and successful TV entertainer (even in the autumn of that same 1968, he was called to host, with his wife Ombretta Colli, a light program called "Giochiamo agli anni '30") as well as a humorous singer of a somewhat roguish and vanishing Milan — and the "engaged" Gaber.

Saying something like that means — at a minimum — being a tad too Manichean and absolutist in drawing lines of demarcation and various boundaries within the career of an artist of such level and expressive complexity. It probably also means never having listened to this album, dense with mostly unrecognized gems, which gives us an idea of how Gaber always had not only certain themes but also a certain urgency — sincere and engaged — to express them, without being too intimidated by the fear of tarnishing that solid image of a composed nice guy that everyone liked (listen again to some of his earlier '60s tracks like "Le nostre serate" and "Il coscritto", which were indeed vehemently opposed at the time by RAI, where Gaber, the presenter, had the audacity to sing them).

Moreover, note that at this time there was still no Sandro Luporini behind the scenes with whom to co-write these texts (eight of them — here — solely penned by Gaber while the remaining four have as their co-author another "irregular" of the era, Herbert Pagani).

I speak of a "quasi concept album" — at a time when 33 RPM albums were mostly mere collections of singles already released in 45 RPM — because there is a thread in the album given at least by the total sincerity and intensity that Gaber puts into singing — from time to time — the contradictions, the anxieties, the limits, and weaknesses of the individual, often seen as a traveler engaged in a difficult and uncertain journey along a rough road ("Un uomo che dal monte", "La vita dell'uomo"), or the pettiness and inequity of certain choices driven by careerism, consumerism, and barrenness ("Eppure sembra un uomo"; "La corsa"; "Immagini"), or the hypocrisy of merely apparent "revolutions" (?) — touted as such at the time — that arose in Catholicism following the Second Vatican Council ("La Chiesa si rinnova"), or the annoying vacuity of the incessant blah-blah-blah that surrounded us daily ("Parole parole"), or the difficulty of living as a couple on genuinely equal and mutually respectful terms ("L'orologio", a poetic song of highly modern structure and rare beauty, which tells of a masculine love already largely disillusioned yet still subservient), or the difficulties — but also the satisfactions — inherent in wanting to be a "non-conformist" not easily classified beforehand and eager to abstain from compromises ("L'asse d'equilibrio"), or even the heartbreaking internal conflict — so brilliantly mastered at the time by Gaber himself — between the "need to play the clown" to please the masses and the strong desire to be able to sing, instead, always in full freedom, presenting to the aforementioned masses uncomfortable, sad, or — simply — less pleasant and appealing themes (the splendid and obviously autobiographical "Suona chitarra", which Gaber nonetheless managed to perform on TV, even though it essentially expressed his discontent toward a certain type of television appearance, which at the time — and perhaps not only then — was virtually mandatory for those making light music):

"If I could really sing

I would truly sing for everyone

I would sing joys and sorrows

and my song would be sincere.

But if I do this, I'm not liked

I have to play the clown.

So, play guitar

entertain them

play guitar

never make them think

of darkness, of fear

of doubt, of censorship

of scandals, of hunger

of man like a dog

crushed and trampled (...)"

It is no coincidence that more than one of these songs ("Eppure sembra un uomo" but also, naturally, "La Chiesa si rinnova": every time I listen to it, the incredible announced Ratzingerian counter-reforms inevitably come to mind, starting from the Latin Mass mentioned in the song...) later became an integral part of Gaberian theater-song shows post-1970.

The atmosphere pervading the entire album (magnificently sung, as usual, by Gaber with his deep, warm, resonant, and perfectly tuned voice, better than many "pure interpreters" or even fellow singer-songwriters) can perhaps be adequately rendered by the final two stanzas of the song "Immagini":

"(...) A church, a great church

full of pure gold decorations

where a humble and sad crowd

kneels

praying to someone

who doesn’t hear them

or who does not exist.

A cemetery, a grand cemetery

where the graves aren't the same

where grand monuments rise

in a race

that has no fate

and continues

even after death".