Lucio Dalla
Ciao

THE REVIEW

I never liked Lucio the buffoon. The one who jumps, howls, makes noises, pretends to be Neapolitan (him, a Bolognese through and through), burps, farts, and so on.

By contrast, the melancholic Lucio, lonely, with a lump in his throat, nostalgic, surly, yes: he's the one. He is real, alive. I like him.

'Ciao', the album, isn't popular anymore. Because fundamentally it's the radio that spoon-feeds the listener, attentive or not.

And the radio, at the time, bombarded us with “Ciao – ciao – ciao – ciao – ciao – ciao.” It's not evil, but it's too lighthearted, misleading when placed within the context of the album.

Which, in several episodes, convinces and transmits indefinite bursts of a rarefied, introverted, stressed, and paranoid Lucio.

Tracks 2-3-4, "Non vergognarsi mai", "Io tra un’ora sono lì" and "Là", could almost be considered a concept. In order: 1. I make you aware of your perverse beauty 2. I will reach you at all costs 3. I won’t lose you, even if it means annihilating myself. I approve of the musical part: it flows, it's catchy, it's heartfelt.

“What A Beautiful Day” and “Hotel” overwhelm with the sense of solitude within them. I approve of them wholeheartedly. Even if it took some time. Years, perhaps. Because the immediate impact might not break through. Lucio often requires time, patience, but you already know that. I believe.

“Trash” few have understood. (moreover, lyrics not his editor’s note). Or rather: few have processed it. Because if you don't process it, you hate it. If you grasp its thrill, you end up liking it. It might even irritate you.

“Scusa” is a token of love that is never missing in Lucio's albums, it's nice, nothing more. His stuff, basically.

“Born To Be Alone”, as well as “Trapiantoperso” and “1999” (re-recorded), are the lowest points, along with the title track.

That's all. Of “Ciao”, year 1999. There's nothing else. I've dissected ‘Canzoni’ from 1996, which were more favored than ‘Ciao’, well, in the opinion of the writer, it doesn't have the pure, maladjusted, and distorted DNA.

Trust me, or not. Lucio would tell you: damn, fool, jerk.

Then, however, he would apologize. Before locking himself in his room.