Loredana Bertè
Bandabertè

Bertè's musical career began between the mid-1970s and the early 1980s (1976-1982 to be precise). Definitely a rough period: American rock was about to bid a sad farewell to Elvis Presley, and the Queen were preparing to become, for almost a decade, the most popular rock band on the planet. For people from the provinces who liked to rock to the rhythm of the great pioneering fathers of rock 'n' roll (Gene Vincent, Chuck Berry, Billy Holiday) the period was really unfortunate, almost tragic. Bertè was a provincial girl, growing up in the shadow of her more classical and austere sister, Mia Martini. After a couple of distinctly underrated albums, Bertè found her path to great success: the opportunity was provided by a certain Avogadro, a lyricist, and appreciated author of some famous late Sixties hits. Avogadro wrote for Bertè "E la luna bussò", a vaguely reggae song with rare, but incisive, rock hints. It is a slightly silly song, with frankly disorganized lyrics ("E la luna bussò su due occhiali da sole, quello sguardo non si accorse di lei. Ed allora provò ad un party in piscina, senza invito non entra nemmeno la luna"), but with a rhythm and melody not unfamiliar with the American lesson of Bob Marley (clear references to "Jamming"). Bertè wonderfully interpreted the track: great vocal range, enviable sense of rhythm, grit and anger to spare. The long final musical coda (more than a minute) is a successful tribute to the rastafarian and long-haired culture, the one in which Marley and Zappa, Deep Purple and the Police identified themselves. A sort of intertwining of reggae and rock, hard and hip hop: for the series, freaks in power.

"E la luna bussò" will be the leading track of "Bandabertè" a very popular album by Loredana di Calabria. An album rich in sounds, feats of skill, and some frankly negligible banalities. Bertè's desire to do (or rather, to overdo) is evident in many songs ("Peccati trasparenti", "Agguato a Casablanca"), but "Dedicato" is beautiful, a very tender and violent track written by an Ivano Fossati in a dazzling state of grace. Bertè, true to herself, injects anger, courage, determination, clenched teeth, and a desire to impress by shouting and writhing. Yet, she manages to remain implacable and elegant. The tributes to Lucio Battisti ("Prendi fra le mani la testa" and "Macchina del tempo") are not entirely successful, although the desire to take risks and put herself to the test is commendable and never trivial.