Lucio Dalla
Com'è profondo il mare

You are not obliged to forgive me, Lucio, if a few days ago after the San Remo festival, I jokingly told you to get that dead rat off your head, and you are not obliged to forgive me if in an excess of zeal, without even listening to the song by you and young Carone, I added it to the heap of "natural fertilizer" to be stored in a silo; try to understand me, I have a certain resentment towards the "defilippiani", after all you and "the others" (you know very well who I mean) have spoiled me, you are of a different breed.

You are not obliged to forgive me, Lucio, if I dared to question you at times and did not fully appreciate every one of your albums. Consequently, you are not obliged to forgive me if I think that "Ciao", "Luna matana", "Bugie", or "Il contrario di me" are inferior to the acceptable "Cambio", "Viaggi organizzati", "Henna" "1999" and "Canzoni", which in turn can be declined compared to the excellent "1983", "Q-disk", "Terra di Gaibola", "Anidride solforosa", and "Il giorno aveva 5 teste", which do not reach the magnificence of "Dallamericaruso", "Automobili", "Lucio Dalla", "Dalla" and... "Com'è profondo il mare". Here's the pinnacle; in this regard, you are not obliged to forgive me even in this case if it was this album rather than another that won my personal favor many years ago.

"Il cucciolo Alfredo", "Barcarola", "Quale allegria", "Disperato erotico stomp", "Corso Buenos Aires", "Treno a vela", "…E non andar più via", loneliness, and anxieties assimilated over the years, are you really the alter-ego of this parade of anguished souls told in the songs? And then there's her, the pearl that gives the album its title; here Lucio goes beyond, solitude becomes a more extended, universal concept, it is sadly social and cultivated since the beginning of mankind, with class differences depravedly dragged on for centuries. Then everything is thrown into the sea, fish are known to be mute, yet they think, and they do so in such a profound and intense way that their silence annoys, but they are agile, they flee and slip away from hands protected by their world, "thought is like the ocean, you can't block it, you can't enclose it", yet man becomes "someone", without giving up the attempt to burn, kill, humiliate, and subdue the sea.

Wonderful Lucio, divine piece, your crowning glory. No, no Lucio, trust me, it's not flattery, I adore you and "the others", let's not talk nonsense. This album is you, period. It is your solo debut work. Oh, what did I say? Solitude? Again? You see then that it is not a coincidence? No, Lucio, not in that sense, I don't think you are a loser always alone...

You've always had a passion for dogs, the moon, and stars, you often mention them in your songs. As a young man, you enjoyed spending nights on rooftops observing Bologna, absorbing its smells, then solitary like dogs, you barked at that white sphere and fell asleep under the stars, without white sheets to cover you. And I thank you, Lucio, you have been an integral part of that colorful parallel track that you and "the others" have created.

But now it's my turn and this time, Lucio, you have to forgive my anger, because you messed things up, without warning, without a sign, even one as tiny as in the card game scopa when you have the seven of coins. Naughty boy! You have to forgive me if I got emotional when I found out. What do you mean? Come on, don't make me spell it out, not today.

Rather, I want to believe that you're still on tour, like with Francesco last year. I want to convince myself that this tournée never ends. Isn't it so? Then dear Lucio, enjoy this endless tour and this audience. I am here to listen to you. I turn on the sound system, close my eyes, and listen to your scratchy tone while you praise, accompanying yourself on the piano, a great Neapolitan tenor, when the needle grooves the vinyl of "Banana republic", the famous intro of a clarinet rings clear to me, or when the magnetic tape is caressed by the "Dalla" tape, I let myself be carried away by the saxophone solos, noble instruments manoeuvred by your fingers and brought to life by your heart.

I am here to listen to you, I have always been here. Do you see that you are not alone?