Litfiba
Grande Nazione

But can Pelù-Renzulli alone once again take on the name of Litfiba for the release of an album of new songs? Yes, they can, if you accept the thesis that the name rightfully belongs to them due to everything massive and valid they produced in the nineties, despite changing supporting musicians - reduced to the role of session musicians - at every turn. So, moving past the name issue (which, it's true, deserves a deeper discussion), let's focus on the album.

Thirteen years after the musical and personal disaster of "Infinito," rock signed by the Tuscan duo returns to vibrate in the fans' stereos. And it really is rock, as Pelù had only hinted at in his last two solo works: from the pachyderm riff of Lo Squalo to the accelerations of Anarcoide, the drumbeat is standardized in 4/4, the keyboards and bass do their dirty job of thrilling the band’s aficionados. Various Daniele Bagni on bass, Pino Fidanza on drums, and Federico Sagona on keyboards have the task of 'writing' the sound carpet, on which Pelù mounts his rediscovered vocal expressiveness and Renzulli can fire his solos, all quite "recognizable" in style and successful, despite their simplicity. Excluding the ballads La mia valigia and Luna dark, and the bonus track Dimmi Dei Nazi, present only in the "deluxe" version of the album, which is nothing more than a musical style exercise. Then the synth in the chorus of Grande Nazione, this yes curious, and the playful groove of Brado reminiscent of Imparerò (directly from "Mondi Sommersi"). The rest is really little. The lyrics of the already mentioned Lo Squalo are one of the most meaningless ever written by Pelù ("I have a thousand teeth and I love my hunger/I am the shark, the executioner of the world/and in the end, I'll eat myself too"), Grande Nazione tries to be the new Maudit, but turns out rather conventional ("one hundred and fifty-one years of mafias and masons/we are the land of toys for the rich/a republic based on incentivized cunning"). Piero satisfies his blasphemous needs in Anarcoide, but the verses "neither God/nor masters/nor politicians/on TV" risk seeming ridiculous when recited by a fifty-year-old father of three, not by a teenager in a hormonal phase.

In the opener Fiesta Tosta the reference to the Arcore "bunga bunga" seems rather gratuitous and won't entice the appetite of the most savvy fans, those from the early days and of Pelù who got himself sued by Spadolini. In any case, dedicating the album "to love," Litfiba themselves seem to not take themselves too seriously. Their intent was to make a good rock 'n roll album, and they succeeded. Anyone who, struck by the energy unleashed in concerts over the past two years, expected a "Terremoto" updated to 2000 sounds will be disappointed. Whoever approaches this album with curiosity, and without positive or negative prejudices, might be pleasantly surprised.

Hoping that the next album (already announced by Pelù, never tired of demagogies that excite the fan base, like the third of a trilogy of the States, of which the first episodes are Stato Libero Di Litfiba and this Grande Nazione) might lead to a maturation also in the realization of the lyrics. And if talking about "maturation" for artists who have long passed the forty mark makes you wrinkle your nose, oh well: one never stops learning.