Litfiba
17 Re

Litfiba made a name for themselves in the early '80s with the theatrical-themed EP "Eneide" and later with the beautiful "Desaparecido," the true debut work of the Tuscan group with Pelù on vocals, Ghigo Renzulli on guitar, Gianni Maroccolo on bass, Antonio Aiazzi on keyboards, and Ringo De Palma on drums. In 1987, their absolute masterpiece was released, matching only the 1985 work, which would not be replicated in the inferior "Litfiba 3" of 1988. "17 Re": 16 masterpieces, a double album, new wave, post-punk, decadent and irritating visions, sensuality, darkness, apocalypse, war… A flaming red heart, barbed, surrounded by an infinite, hallucinatory expanse.

"Resta", "I'm oscillating on a blade between horizons and peaks", is Pelù and company's first scream: "Resta una parte di me quella più vicina al nulla". Everyone can interpret the words as they wish, but I see a profound restlessness and perdition of a man. "Re del Silenzio," the second track, opens with keyboards and a haunting bass line: "I stood watching in the silence," "please leave me alone!", "heart without love," "Why can't I love anymore", these are fragments of conscious solitude of a generation. More cheerful, seemingly, is "Café Mexcal e Rosita," intriguing in both music and lyrics. "Vendetta" is the following track, one of the album's absolute peaks. The acoustic intro precedes a series of images softly whispered and confidently shouted, among rhythm changes, between syncopation, acoustic and Mediterranean sounds. The lyrics are simply poetry: flashes, fire, God, Night and Day, the protagonist is sure he will continue to see bloody vendettas, useless wars, "I met God playing with the sky, forgetting the air, the fire and the day." A declaration of love wrapped in a clearly romantic soundscape is what Pierrot makes to the Moon ("Pierrot e la Luna"), embedded in progressive settings, especially in the beautiful ending. Linked to the pseudo-playful atmospheres of "Café..." is "Tango," with its namesake sounds, truly unique, and with the usual underlying restlessness sung viscerally by an inspired Pelù, as is the case throughout the album. "Come Un Dio" is the second peak of the album. A track that transports the listener to an infinite place that might be frightening; a man who, if he were God, would make men as they are with "eyes not to see and mouths not to speak."

Apocalyptic choirs in the distance and a slow rhythm lead us to "Febbre," I can't stay here, the obsession of being ill, alien and insensitive, the heart is just a passive muscle, wind ice, wind fire..., another dark peak halfway through the album. "Apapaia" focuses on the strength of ideologies, difficult to change and often even to respect, necessary for survival. The sound is typical of a progressive ballad, like the subsequent "Univers" (a bit tedious) and "Sulla Terra" (more rhythmic, at times reggae). In the latter, the dark sides of our world are examined, once again the wars, another heart that no longer beats, beasts at war, on earth, on earth. "Ballata", amidst shadowy and melancholic sounds, with great Maroccolo and his prominent bass work, evokes echoes and oriental sounds and manages to become suggestive and poetic. With this track, the so-called calm part closes to make way for the grand finale, once again hallucinatory and harsh like the beginning. "Gira Nel Mio Cerchio", with its guitar intro and Pelù's scream, opens up a twisted world, a nightmare, an inferno of time changes, sudden stops and unexpected gallops, distortions, frenzied keyboards, and swirling solos. A sort of experience akin to a cult and its strange rituals: blue spots on the body, seven eight, spin in my circle. Pelù barks and gets mean like a "dog" in the following eponymous song, nearly three minutes of pseudo-metal-punk, not sure how to define it (?) with a truly on-form Renzulli, spiced with possibly excessive keyboards and a sharp, decisive drum beat. With "Oro Nero" the musical exploration does not stop, and the Orient seems even closer, the lyrics seem to tackle one of the central themes of the whole album, the war of conquest.

Finally, we are at the end. The last track starts calm only to enter the whirlwind of a pressing violin loop, then stops again before starting once more. "Ferito" is the war of the Indians: "great white chief says we are ready, to attack!!!". Beautiful and heartbreaking, the final coda is somewhat similar to that of "War" on the previous album. A riff repeated endlessly, just as space will remain endless around that heart, the one on the cover, barbed and filled with the pain of wars, silences, deaths, and vendettas. A challenging and painful masterpiece.