Jovanotti
Safari

On the planet we live on, there's a place characterized by a marvelous and austere beauty, by the grace of millennial culture, and by the epic stench that people emanate, even without wanting to; this country is Italy: an invention of Cavour and the Piedmontese in general.

The Piedmontese are great people, master chocolatiers who know what they want. Pragmatic and essential in their choices, they sent a thousand unfortunate souls dressed in red to liberate the peninsula from the very evil Bourbons. These Bourbons ruled the South with great ferocity, were attached to money like ticks, and never washed: it's said of these Bourbons ladies that they would lift their skirts, and then the Cicisbeo would come to wash the floor. All this happened when the majority of people living in the countryside, the real people, those who today watch DeFilippi's shows and claim a fair wage, had nothing to eat. The country folks were desperate and hit each other hard. They wanted freedom from the Bourbons and the Piedmontese. And so the Mafia was born.

The album Safari contains a series of truly special songs, considering that Jovanotti is a child of our times. Jova has studied man thoroughly, and you can feel it, seeking that emptiness of meaning which in everyday life brings us back to historical topics of little interest on a music review site. Jova talked with Filo on the pages of Rolling Stone Italy, one of my favorite magazines, captatio benevolentiae, and told Filo that sad things make him angry. It's true.

In this album, you won’t hear echoes of melancholy but only a great desire to fight against the progressive petty bourgeois invasion of melancholy tout-court, the gendarmes of the spleen: the people who are always there to grumble without ever doing anything substantial.

Jova knows this, he stands near the Amazon waterfalls and watches the vapor rising from the turbid waters of the M'baro M'baro river (this is an invention), but the article in Viaggi di Repubblica exists and can be seen by everyone (it came out today).

Jova and Filo (Filippo Timi, a very talented and intelligent theater actor) discussed a bit of everything, including the unity of Italy, and here we come back to the beginning of the piece I wrote. If the filthy lady of the Bourbons lifted her skirt and relieved herself while waiting for the Cicisbeo to clean up, so must we look at "record labels" (if they exist and if they truly are them) and these creatures of Cecchetto do their business and then go clean our brains from the mass-media nonsense that these "Mona" faces inflict upon us every time they feel like doing their po-po.

And remember to go vote.