Litfiba
Terremoto

THE REVIEW

Eight o'clock: it's late, and I have to go to school, my face is shocked, mood even worse, I feel a bit like Vasco back in the days of "Fegato Spappolato." I get up, and in five minutes I'm ready and running to school. As soon as I enter, the vice principal gives me the usual reprimand and accompanies me to class. Quarter past eight, the lesson starts, and because of the late hours the night before, I almost fall asleep. So far, so good. Second hour, free period. My classmates start having mental movies about an annoying and especially talentless singer. Meanwhile, I recover from the coma and try to make them understand how insignificant this "being" is by playing a bit of Pink Floyd, De Gregori. I'm interrupted: No! How disgusting, get this old stuff out of here. "Noi siamo infinito" they sing in chorus, Alessio Bernabei is the best. De Gregori who? He's awful. This is where I realize why Italy is in these conditions, but that's another story. I try to reason with them, but nothing—their speech makes no sense. Fortunately, I had my beloved headphones with me. I ignore my classmates, plug in the jack, and find myself catapulted into my ideal dimension. Given the mood, I search for something "angry." The selection narrows down to two albums: "Terremoto" and "Back in Black." I go for the first one.

"Dimmi il nome" starts with a short introduction, the scream, and the mammoth riff. As soon as I hear the first notes, I start recovering. It seems even angrier than usual, a bit like me, the fight against silence and mafia organizations. Let's remember that the album was recorded back in 1993, a period of scandals, Tangentopoli, the mafia had just assassinated Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino, and Litfiba wanted to bring this message to light: rebel against the mafia and corruption, a concept that repeats in "Maudit."

I look at the time; it's half past nine, still time left. "Fata Morgana" kicks in, a gem from the Tuscan group. It starts calm, and after two pieces like those mentioned above, it has a strange but wonderful effect, indescribable, something fantastic. If the first two pieces made me even angrier, when it's this one's turn, I relax and lose myself in the "desert." Ghigo's riff is almost hypnotic, and the bass sounds deep; the piece suddenly culminates.

Did you sell your soul to the market? Money, money, money, a piece that talks about the importance of the latter and how everyone is willing to do anything to get more of it. A piece similar to the previous one in atmosphere, but if these two pieces are somewhat similar in style, "Firenze Sogna," in structure, is identical to the third track of the record—calm start, monotonous bass line, and the riff that brings nothing new not already heard in "Fata Morgana," just missing the increase in rhythm, otherwise a photocopy piece.

The album flows lightly, just like time, and it's nine forty; the hour is almost over. In class, all sorts of things happen; I don't care. There's "Dinosauro": "pretend your rights first the written ones," a phrase whose meaning refers to what was said before, and if you can't get them, switch to tough ways, "your life has no meaning, change artillery, use energy." The song ends, and "Prima Guardia" tells us about the sufferings of war and imprisonment. An excellent piece, even if a bit short but still intense, full of meaning, taking me back to the stories my great-grandfather used to tell me about the war when I was little, "Transform your rifle into a more civil gesture."

We move to lighter subjects in "Il mistero di Giulia," as in "Gioconda" from the album El Diablo. The good Piero is deeply opposed to marriage and fidelity; he certainly doesn't hide it.

Two minutes to the end of the hour, but the bell rings early, math, and here we go again. My mood sinks.

I don't have time to listen to "Sotto il Vulcano," which I'll listen to in the afternoon. Pelù compares himself to a volcano because he's full of energy and wants to release it all at once like an eruption.

A very pleasant album to listen to, pieces for a young audience like myself after all, and despite the lyrics being written twenty years ago, they remain very relevant. Piero in great shape on the album.