Max Gazzè
Contro un'onda del mare

The year 1996 was a special year for Italy. On one hand, there was the return of the great songwriters, with Fossati producing one of his best works, "Macramé", De André writing his swan song, "Anime Salve", De Gregori with the good "Prendere e Lasciare", and Battiato with the excellent "L'Imboscata". On the other, the rise of new bands on the peninsula specializing in rock and more was in the air, thanks to albums like (among many) "Il Vile" by Marlene Kuntz, "Linea Gotica" by Consorzio Suonatori Indipendenti, and "Ust" by Ustmamò.

And who was in between? Good question.

In the middle could be those singers who managed to have something to say, and some of whom still manage to make themselves heard today. There was Gianluca Grignani, whose "Fabbrica Di Plastica" can easily be considered his masterpiece before starting (from 1999 onwards) a painful decline characterized by songs tending towards the trivial and the bland, there was Daniele Silvestri, who with his "Dado" made a big splash, surprising critics and audiences alike; and last but not least, there was Max Gazzé.

At the time, the bassist for the aforementioned Silvestri, Max released one of his best works in 1996, his debut "Contro Un'Onda Del Mare".

An album that can be considered a manifesto of Gazzé's rawer side (an aspect that the artist would partially revisit in his latest album): sometimes complicated lyrics ("Quel che fa paura", "Sul filo"), but remarkable, and sounds tending towards a hard rock ("Karbogha": "Cross of blood on the shield, hand extended in strong fear, cloak torn by the sword, keeper of the Holy Sepulchre"), intense ("Il bagliore dato a questo sole": "Free to live, free to listen to the illusions of the mind and soul..."), at times almost Soundgarden-like ("Gli anni senza un dio": "See my son, only then will you realize that it's better not to understand the strange miseries that I understood, close your eyes, it's just a lightning bolt, the thunder will come and I won't be there..."), without too much desire to overdo it with the risk of ending badly. There are also more subdued tracks, like "Sirio è sparita", "Il viaggio di Luna" ("Will I eventually find...my land?"), and the amusing "Sono pazzo di te" ("How will I heal from your lies, if you've never understood that I'm crazy about you?"). The video of the latter is unmissable, now hard to find, where Max walks around with an inflatable doll!

The four tracks titled "Atmos" are also notable, almost mini-jam sessions (except for the fourth, called "Scherzo di un do minore," a well-executed experiment for electronic strings).

But the devastating and grotesque "Terra", written with Lucio Morelli ("I turn on the TV, cigarette in my throat, I only see butts and hear shrill voices"), is no joke, an idea that would be revived by him for "Nel verde", included in the subsequent "La Favola Di Adamo Ed Eva".

The work was so well appreciated that it was advertised by none other than Franco Battiato. A bold and decisively perfect choice for someone like Max, an artist today unfortunately not fully understood by the "mainstream" music world, but certainly endowed with a lot, a lot of talent.

And people like us have noticed it for some time.