Jovanotti
Lorenzo 1994

THE REVIEW

The sharp-witted Luigi Pirandello had it right: the incommunicability between people is caused by the fact that each person is forced to assume a mask in their relationships with others. What lies behind that communist face complete with a Che Guevara beard speaking about human rights and pacifism? Is he just a fool trying to win over a crowd of alternative-adolescent kids who differentiate themselves from the crude mass of posers by smoking ganja and wearing a picnic cloth around their necks? Or is he an artist who writes only what he feels inside himself? For those who don't know him personally, the answer to this dreadful question can only be dictated by intuition; mine leads me to lean towards the second hypothesis, but I have no desire to convince anyone to revise their sixth sense if they don't share my view. With this rather tedious preamble out of the way, let's move on to the review.

In "Lorenzo 1994," Cherubini shows he has matured significantly compared to the times of "For president" and "La mia moto": the arrangements, skillful blends of rap, funky, ethnic music, and the inevitable bass lines from the usual Saturnino, are very well-crafted, and Jova's rapped lyrics can strike, provoke thought, and also stir emotions (as in the "ballad of lost love" Io ti cercherò, in full Biagio Antonacci style yet still very moving).
The sequence of the first tracks is explosive: the verses of "Attaccami la spina" immediately let us know what our guy is made of—full of energy but (finally) aware that music does not create a revolution; at most, it can be its soundtrack. Following this, we find the two most commercially famous episodes of the album: the sweet and dreamy "Serenata rap" and the animated "Penso positivo," a manifesto of Jova's think pink poetry. Another notable piece is "Si va via," an uncommon interpretation of the issue of Saturday night massacres, preceded by the brilliant intro "I giovani." "Voglio di +" is a halfway return to the past, "Parola" is almost a prayer to the gods of thoughts and words dedicated to Lorenzo's loved ones, while "Soleluna" strongly recalls St. Francis. "Barabba" and "Il futuro del mondo" are the most socially committed tracks of the album; the former is a strong critique of a mass that needs heroes to conveniently indulge its own vices, while the latter, rockish and angry, lashes out against the intolerance and arrogance that are now rampant in our society. Slower and more touching tracks are "Piove" (where the rumble of a thunderstorm magnificently accompanies Centonze's guitar) and "Mario" (incredibly evocative lyrics but not performed excellently).
A dense magma of sounds, words, and emotions, providing us (keeping the preamble valid) with the profile of one of the most important artists of the late-century Italian music scene.