Massimiliano Larocca
Qualcuno stanotte

Massimiliano Larocca is an authentic character. For years he has been playing his songs up and down Italy, alone or with a few musician friends, without any surrounding marketing or left/right-wing para-government subsidies. He proves in the field that he knows how to play his stuff without needing the usual Italian singer-songwriter's jazz musician accompaniment. He has a warm and deep voice, immediately recognizable—this last trait is not easy to find... where? Well, for example, among the winners of TV singing contests. Massimiliano Larocca is a songwriter in his own right, writing both lyrics—in Italian—and music for his songs, unlike other illustrious colleagues who have self-proclaimed themselves as the number ones of national rock; his melodies are always well characterized and defined, a rare thing today in the singer-songwriter landscape. And so Larocca comes out with “Qualcuno stanotte,” his third album, arranged and played by the cinematic (in the sense of film music) band Sacri Cuori—collaborations with Hugo Race, Il pan del diavolo, Robyn Hitchcock, and various soundtracks.

Musically, “Qualcuno stanotte” is positioned in the Anglo-Saxon area, United States side, between Springsteen and Dylan, although Larocca declares himself also tied to the Texan school of Townes Van Zandt, Tom Russell, Guy Clark, Joe Ely. But the clear musical derivation of the album is seamlessly paired with Italian writing: Larocca manages to be believable writing in our language about metropolitan loves and glimpses of salvation, typical themes of American folk-rock.

“Qualcuno stanotte” opens with the rock made of love and morphine of Angelina, moves to the subterranean blues of Scarpe di lavoro and the sultry blues in minor key of Le luci della città, with apocalyptic images (The city is like a belly that explodes and moans). Magnifici perdenti and Strade perdute are the heart of the album, the songs that summarize its sense. Magnifici perdenti is an anthem to all the invisible people living in the city, between broken dreams and Saturday night queues. Strade perdute is a brave ballad for its length (7 and a half minutes) and its sparse and repetitive structure held up by the double bass. A track that seems to have come out of the '60s and personally reminds me of Van Morrison's Madame George. Then come the more catchy pieces, Sottomondo and the single Invisibili, the latter a very short open-mic for voice and acoustic guitar only, pleasantly detached from the electric sounds of the rest of the tracks. Then we find the only cover, Blue jeans & white t-shirt by Gaslight Anthem, adapted into Italian in Piccolo eden. After Larocca's look at Florence, his city (Nella città degli angeli), the beautiful melody of Ti porto con me, a love ballad about two lovers seeking each other out in hotels and foreign cities. Finally, the, in my opinion, affected Niente amore (in questa città) and Dopo il diluvio, a true salvation song in the vein of Curtis Mayfield's famous People get ready, closing the album on a hopeful note (We'll find another road in the dark / When the flood arrives).

The arrangements and execution are effective, although in my opinion in the faster and more direct tracks (Angelina, Sottomondo, Niente amore) the drums seem weak. These tracks would have benefited from a more solid drum and less support from percussive effects. But overall the backing band Sacri Cuori deserves applause, for having dressed the songs in a suit that fits well with Larocca's urban romanticism: pay attention to the movie-like interlude in Nella città degli angeli, but here and there there are still cinematic touches that enhance the metropolitan visions of the Florentine singer-songwriter.

Thus: if you believe in the meeting of heartland rock and Italian songwriting, if you think that rock once again can bring together visionariness (not cerebral), romanticism, and salvation, then you will surely appreciate “Qualcuno stanotte” by Massimiliano Larocca.