Luciferme
Ad Occhi Chiusi (Cd Singolo)

There are many types of debuts. Loser, low-key, sensational, strange, global, provincial, self-produced or independent. Generally, after a debut comes recognition, which can be good or bad depending on the case. Then you become someone, or you get labeled as a "flash in the pan."

I don't know how to define Luciferme. This is their debut track, dated 1997, very Italian rock style. Pelù's Litfiba were booming and monopolizing attention, selling massive quantities of questionable CDs like "Mondi Sommersi" (certainly light-years away from the style of "El Diablo" or "Terremoto"). They deserve credit for paving the way for those who didn't intend to use English to express good rock, freeing the Italian language from an ancient melodic tradition in the vein of "Nel Blu Dipinto di Blu." Perhaps, Luciferme are the offspring of the courage of Piero & Ghigo, as they offered a great sound, high-level arrangements, great guitars, with that old fox Marroccolo (yes, the very same from C.S.I.) producing and supervising. This is "Ad Occhi Chiusi," Italian rock in the true sense of the word, sung with a warm voice, echoes, reverbs, guitars, and everything needed to break into a scene dominated that year by Nek, Pausini, and Max Pezzali. The singer, Francesco Pisaneschi, is also the author of the lyrics (here as in the rest of the work that follows), absolutely not to be underestimated, as the entire lyric fits perfectly with the base, allowing the voice space for extremely pleasant stylistic inventions. It tackles the overused theme of freedom ("I want to climb higher as long as my heart can beat its wings and let the wind blow and open its wings to the sun") with intimate words, speaking about himself in the first person. The radios noticed them, and they got decent airplay (but I don't remember anything triumphant as written on their official website), becoming the opening act for Biagio Antonacci (what a shame).
I remember and don't remember them because it was with their second work the following year that I truly discovered them, one morning while going to school and from my car radio (a relic only I could own) positioned in an equally picturesque car (such was its state of preservation), a very alluring voice blasted the story of a golden Pegasus directly into my brain, waking me from my morning coma and prompting me to ask "Who the heck???" It wasn't Pelù, as it seemed, but Luciferme. It certainly seemed like something already heard, but "Il Soffio" (presented at Sanremo with, I imagine, a tragic result, I don't remember) struck for what it was, a simple rock base, with a simple guitar riff, where the singing took center stage, hoarse, sensual, and powerful as only the best Piero could be. An intense piece with a dreamlike text, the finale is truly chilling. The album containing it was "Cosmoradio," and I remember trying to snatch it from my wealthy friend who bought all the original CDs, resulting in just a recorded tape (lame). Already the album in its entirety revealed a certain weakness, a lack of general ideas in which Luciferme seemed to have fallen in their effort to prove they were not Litfiba (failing nonetheless)...

Result? Meteors!!! Disappeared. That is, they returned to the limbo of bands playing in live pubs, no longer aired on the radio, no longer anyone's opening act. Other CDs, other (maybe) good ideas, but no longer in the spotlight of the general public. While Pelù is still there imitating himself, these clones have evaporated, continuing to produce CDs that went completely unnoticed. Completely dead since 2004, the year of their last work. What a pity, a bit more variety wouldn't have hurt, probably if they had come out a few years later they would have achieved visibility without ruining themselves with imitations too blatant to be convincing.