Litfiba
Desaparecido

Invoking a historic name like Litfiba means talking about the history of Italian rock. Period.

With a career marked by highs (many) and lows (few), breakups, farewells, and comebacks, it's undeniable that the Florentine ensemble had a perhaps unparalleled influence on the Italian rock scene of the '80s and '90s.

But how? More than PFM, Banco, and Orme? Perhaps.

Despite the enormous impact that progressive rock with an Italian twist had during the '70s, it's undeniable that it was a phenomenon more niche-oriented, as acclaimed abroad as it was semi-snobbed in Italy (naturally). The failure of bands like Biglietto per l'Inferno, Locanda delle Fate, and others is often also attributable to an unresponsive market, as well as to a proposal that was hardly commercial and therefore easily accessible.

Litfiba, thanks to the insights of the "George Martin" of the situation (with due differences, of course) Albero Pirelli, managed to do something unique: make quality music, full of gypsy and decadent atmospheres accompanying dreamlike and poetic lyrics while also managing to sell. Of course, distinctions must be made: the band from the '80s, both in line-up and in the music proposed, is not the same as in the years to come, and on several occasions, the absence of a historical member like Gianni Maroccolo (who later became one of the symbols of alternative rock with CCCP-Fedeli alla Linea, CSI, and Marlene Kuntz) would be felt.

On the other hand, one couldn't exactly expect the Litfiba of '94 to sound like those of '83 (and here we could endlessly debate whether, with the dissolution of the original core, the "survivors" should have presented themselves with a different name). Within such a long and complex history, it's undeniable that the group produced at least three memorable albums: "Desaparecido" (1985), "17 Re" (1986), and "Colpo di Coda" (1994). It's also undeniable that the group, compared to the international scene, was constantly lagging in terms of the genre proposed from time to time (with various genre changes inserted nonetheless within a logical evolution).

If the group proposed new wave in the latter half of the '80s, this abroad was already on the decline; when they played hard rock ("Terremoto", 1993), abroad, the hard'n'heavy had been swept away by grunge, and when the latter was proposed ("Spirito", 1994), the music scene was already changing. Frankly, it's unclear whether this "gap," if we want to call it that, stemmed from wanting to follow the trends of the moment (but as soon as those sounds were made their own, the proposed genre was already "out of fashion") or from the fact that, musically and culturally, Italy was always cut off from important circuits.

"Desaparecido" boasts a decent production and, above all, an absolutely well-honed group that reached the significant milestone of an LP after years of maturation and "trial" EPs, naturally excluding that complex work that was "Eneide di Krypton," a nearly entirely instrumental album embodying the darker and more decadent side of the group's earliest incarnation but considered an experiment onto itself. From the initial "Eroi nel vento" (wrongly recorded on the cover as "Eroe nel vento"), an authentic manifesto standing for the '80s as much as "El Diablo" would for the '90s, to "La preda" (another well-practiced track over the years), and masterpieces like "Desaparecido", "Istambul", and "Pioggia di luce", gems of rare beauty where a rhythm section, perhaps not technically superb but perfectly executing its role, supports the work of keyboards and guitars, complemented by the baritone voice of a Piero Pelù perhaps never so inspired.

The uniqueness of Litfiba lay precisely in this: after a few lineup changes (a couple of drummer changes), they had arrived at a setup where each member had their weight and a well-defined identity, a setup that, naturally, in the future would be impossible to replicate with a different lineup. Pelù had a unique charisma, singing in a way still far from the almost grotesque and caricatured style of the late '90s, and he wrote hermetic, decadent, and evocative lyrics (also thanks to the lysergic sessions with his drummer friend Ringo De Palma). The journey, Eastern Europe, nomadic peoples, the meeting of cultures: all themes that have followed the group through its various evolutions, regardless of who the author of the lyrics was, almost as if they had become a trademark from which it was difficult to detach, an umbilical cord with a period of artistic and cultural significance they did not want to sever.

The "rest" was done by a Ghigo Renzulli, founder alongside Maroccolo of the group, always present but never intrusive (limited solos, an almost secondary role compared to those that followed, but nonetheless a hotbed of ideas), Gianni "bassomagiatutto" Maroccolo, who contributed enormously to the arrangements (his absence is perhaps what most distinguishes the historic Litfiba from those of the '90s commercial boom), the sound of Antonio Aiazzi's keyboards, a true bridge between the early new wave and the hard rock of the '90-'94 period, as well as Ringo De Palma's drums. The following year, the group would present itself on similar levels with "17 Re," an ambitious work, very long for the time (sixteen tracks on double vinyl), the album that Maroccolo would repeatedly describe as the one he feels closest to, born from interminable work on music and arrangements.

If in 1986, therefore, the eternal tug of war between Renzulli and Maroccolo was won by the latter, from the following year the tone changed: with "Litfiba 3" (1988), a more predictable album, but not for this lacking in quality, Renzulli managed to finally establish himself as the group's leader, introducing those purely rock sounds that would make the Florentine band's fortune up to the present day. The definitive break came in 1989, with the rhythm section leaving and Aiazzi participating only as a session musician. From that point on, it was never the same: the replacements did not match the original members in value, and on average, for each album, there would be three or four standout tracks accompanied by others that a few years earlier would have remained in the drawer. Regardless of this, however, one cannot deny that the history of Italian rock has also passed through these grooves.