Gregorio
Insieme A Noi

Foolish madness, hated by the Gods, not accepting your own destiny; the desire to be someone even if destined for the grayness of an obscure existence, believing in one's own talents and possessing none. What naivety to consider oneself master of one's own fate, convinced of being able to descend into the underworld armed only with one's lyre like Orpheus and negotiate with demons one's own freedom as long as one never looks back.

Never look back.

Naivety, unwary candor, reckless madness; trivial matters that could easily be forgiven.

If the Gods could forgive.

Gregorio, with that face of his, went down to the underworld and got burned, and no one would have ever known if it weren't for this record, his sacrifice would have been nothing without Music.

This is a story of Redemption and Deliverance.

It all begins in the mid-'90s, when this absurd record emerges from the darkness: off-key, grammatically incorrect, embarrassingly banal, amateurishly exaggerated to the point of seeming fake. In fact, someone thinks it's a brilliant prank by Elio e le Storie Tese, given the striking resemblance between Gregorio and Elio.

But the Elio guys have nothing to do with it.

The record is so ugly that it doesn't go unnoticed, one might even say that – in some ways – it succeeds. Mocking good Gregorio on the web becomes a sport (there's even a review here on DeBaser), hearty laughs, but the record begins to circulate, to the point where it starts appearing on sites like Discogs.

Then someone starts asking who the hell this Gregorio is, sprung out of nowhere and, apparently, swallowed by nothing.

And, little by little, the story comes out.

Giuseppe Gregorio is a young man from Imperia who, between Sunday Mass and a job in a pastry shop, nurtures the dream of becoming a singer, going to Sanremo, on TV, making records and concerts.

And he believes it. He started as a child and continued to nurture his dream throughout his life, despite his father's curses and his mother's worried look. Among concerts, appearances, local festivals, and auditions, he tries in every way.

And one fine day in 1987, the mocking gods take him to Calabria to sing at a local festival. And there he meets Angelina.

It's love.

Two years later, the two get married, and our Giuseppe goes to live in Rosarno with Angelina.

The problem is that Angelina's last name is Bellocco, and in Rosarno, the Bellocco family is the 'ndrangheta.

Giuseppe is welcomed into the “family” and is put to "work.” Giuseppe begins to get entangled, but he struggles, he doesn’t want it: he wants to be a singer.

Then, perhaps to keep him quiet, perhaps to make him happy, the "family" helps him produce his first CD, this "Insieme a noi," which could, with sure chances of victory, compete for the title of "worst record ever.”

It's 1996.

The CD ends up in supermarket bins, and the thing would have ended there.

Instead, as we have seen, the CD starts to spread.

And Giuseppe believes. To the point that, by now, that life in the "family" becomes unbearable for him. How can he go to Sanremo with a criminal record? How can he justify to his fans his texts full of good intentions and sentiments, if his hands are dirty?

So Giuseppe repents.

And he sings, and this time it's a success: the "family" suffers a significant blow. It's clear they'll make him pay for it.

But Giuseppe doesn't believe it and returns to Rosarno, where his Angelina and his children Arianna and William are. That is his family.

And then there is music to protect him.

Gregorio, a new Orpheus, descends into the underworld armed only with his lyre to reclaim his Angelina/Eurydice. Despite every logic, despite every negative forecast, despite the gods’ indifference, despite Hymenaeus not being able to explain his song for him.

Naturally, they make him pay: one fine day, they take him for a car ride, and Giuseppe disappears forever.

Naive and stupid. Giuseppe was naive.

Naive and stupid like all unarmed martyrs, like all idealistic dreamers, like all unrequited lovers.

When someone (or I myself) asks me why I spend so much of my time and money on music, why music is such a part of me and my affections, I think of Giuseppe.

And all the Giuseppes who peer into the darkness with childlike eyes.

Children will not inherit the World. Beauty will not save us.

But I will always be on the side of those willing to lose, those who fight windmills, those who expose their faces to spits and mocking laughs and their heads to batons.

Anyone who pees against the wind is my brother.

I will always be on Giuseppe Gregorio's side.

So years ago, I bought the CD on Discogs.

I placed it in plain sight among my records, so it could be easily seen (and that cover does not go unnoticed).

Why?

Because I always hope that whoever, for some reason, passes by here will be struck by the fantasy of asking me: "And who is that?"

Giuseppe's body has never been found.