Metamorfosi
Paradiso

Born at the end of the 1960s, Metamorfosi quickly established themselves as one of the most interesting presences in the diverse Italian prog scene. Refined lyrics, full of literary and religious references, solemn keyboards and tenor vocals are the elements of a successful offering. After their first LP in '72, ...e fu il sesto giorno, the Roman quartet dedicated themselves to the ambitious project of bringing the Divine Comedy to music: Inferno, released the following year, is among the great classics of that distant era and should be in the discography of any enthusiast. The reinterpretation of Dante's tercets, full of references to the current events of the time, blends well with the band's proposal, which crafted a grim and evocative album, with cold yet enveloping atmospheres. Along with other LPs from those years, like The Trip's Caronte or Balletto di Bronzo's Ys, Inferno perfectly fits into the circle of "dark" 33 rpm records, which managed to rework British prog by enriching it with sulfurous and dark atmospheres.

Obviously, the failure of the Vedette label put an end to the Romans' parabola, forcing them to wait twenty years to return to the scene, relegating them for a long time to the role of yet another fleeting star for a few loyal fans.

Thus, in 2004, after years of meticulous work, it sees the light, it can be said, Paradiso, the eagerly awaited second chapter of the saga. But wasn't Purgatorio supposed to follow Inferno? Certainly, but they chose to shuffle the cards, postponing the intermediate chapter, Purgatorio indeed, to a later time.

The new LP, or CD, considering we're now in the 2000s, confirms the band's spirit: respect for their history but without nostalgia, with an album that sounds fresh and modern.

The solemnity of the keyboards that opens the record immediately leads to Sfera di fuoco, the ideal soundtrack for Dante's ascent to various heavens of the Paradiso. From seasoned musicians like these, class is expected, and that's what Cielo della Luna offers, with well-crafted and mature arrangements. The entire album unfolds, in fact, as a single long flow of music, revisiting the suite structure that already brought success not only to Inferno but to the whole prog genre, allowing artists not to limit their creativity to three-and-a-half-minute songs. Such a solution might be daunting for newcomers, but once appreciated, it's impossible not to be carried away by the emotions. Salita a Mercurio, with its tight and varied rhythms, then makes way for the notes of Cielo di Mercurio. As is tradition, the keyboards are not a simple accompaniment but always take center stage, setting the tempo for the various passages. An acoustic guitar escorts us towards the Cielo di Venere, with Spitaleri providing yet another display of his talent, with an emotional and heartfelt singing style, typical of someone who feels fully immersed in the verses they are interpreting.

For us heroes love the nights in colors and the music
And then for us the road a shout and no tear
Goodbye nocturnal alien lovers drunk with music
Children prisoners with hearts of tender stone

Above the sky of Venus where angels sing
I wake up in a groan and think of love again
Love that lives and hopes

Goodbye damned beautiful rogue heroes and poets
Forever always prisoners of a lost dream
And for the music

The tone shifts decidedly with Cielo di Marte: the sky of the god of war could only be dedicated to a martial and aggressive piece, with Metamorfosi able to transition within a few minutes from sparse and soft passages to decidedly tight ones. The rhythm section is in great shape for Cielo di Giove, whose driving melody soon gives way to the gloom of Cielo di Saturno, in a continuous change of atmospheres that only underscores the huge effort put into this album. Stelle fisse is actually a classy pop track, but the best is still saved for last: the refinement of the notes guides us to the Empireo, "full of intellectual light and love", the heaven directly emanating from the presence of God. And here we finally arrive at the Chiesa delle stelle, a worthy conclusion to a complex and ambitious work, far from any banality. While Enrico Olivieri gives his best in evoking paradisiacal suggestions befitting the album title, Jimmy Spitaleri bids farewell with words full of hope for purification and rebirth. And thus, "my comedy is over," underscoring the conclusion of a journey that began thirty years earlier with the horror of the Inferno and now arrives at the saving light of the Paradiso.

Needless to say, with this new album, Metamorfosi have confirmed themselves, in Italy and abroad, as one of the cornerstones of Italian prog, protagonists of a story not comparable, discographically, to the much more elaborate one of PFM and Banco, but nonetheless of equal depth. For some time, Paradiso, originally released only on CD, has become available also on vinyl, thanks to De Agostini's "Prog Rock Italiano" series. This is, due to length considerations, a slightly shorter version than the one reviewed here, but it does not affect the album's enjoyability. A beautiful and enjoyable album, demonstrating that great prog doesn't stop at the 1970s alone.

1. Introduzione
2. Sfera di fuoco
3. Cielo della Luna
4. Salita a Mercurio
5. Cielo di Mercurio
6. Salita a Venere
7. Cielo di Venere (Notturno su Venere)
8. Il Sole
9. Cielo di Marte
10. Cielo di Giove
11. Cielo di Saturno
12. Stelle fisse
13. Empireo
14. La chiesa delle stelle

Metamorfosi:

• Jimmy Spitaleri, voice
• Enrico Olivieri, piano and keyboards
• Leonardo Gallucci, bass and acoustic guitar
• Fabio Moresco, drums