Those who know me are aware that I don't like and am not particularly skilled at getting straight to the point, but this time I will try.
I love this song.
A lot of it is definitely due to its strong late 60s, early 70s vibe; it reminds me of my childhood, it reminds me of my father who was a huge fan of Mina, and back then I couldn’t understand. We all criticized and mocked him in the family for this passion (even his aesthetic admiration for Mina as a woman), which we thought was exaggerated...
But my father had more refined and sophisticated tastes in all areas, while I, at the time, after setting aside the "zecchino d’oro", was particularly enamored with things like "Kung Foo Fighting" or "Ramaya". It was more or less the same for my sister, and my mother preferred Gina Lollobrigida over Mina and Sophia Loren, although she did listen to Domenico Modugno...
When you become an adult, you almost always transform into your parents (in my case, my father), and then you understand many things, even about the relationship with your children (and daughters...).
But I think that, apart from the emotions and Mina's great interpretation, “Se telefonando” is undoubtedly an absolute masterpiece of universal value not only for its musical part but also for its lyrics (Mogol's absolute dominance on this type of theme, that of conflicting loves, particularly in collaboration with Battisti, was yet to come).
In short, it's as if all the torn pages or simply turned in all inevitably ended loves of all human beings were found, turned over, analyzed, and found a perfect and exciting synthesis in this small film with the extraordinary (yet another) soundtrack by Ennio Morricone on the words of a particularly inspired (as a lyricist) Maurizio Costanzo.
Today, thanks to a “colleague” who inadvertently reminded me of it in one of his reviews, I listened to it again for the umpteenth time.
Not just that.
I sat at my (digital) piano and tried to find its chords and melodies by ear.
Verse and chorus.
Once, I used to do it far more often, now much less, a sign of advancing age and diminishing enthusiasm and patience.
As for the melody (of the chorus), there are few notes, three notes (apparently inspired by the sound of the Marseille police car siren) that ingeniously grow as the song progresses, always retaining their identity intact and recognizable.
But the magic of this track (the source of its emotional climax) is, in my opinion, also and perhaps especially in the harmonic sequence, as I try to describe below (NB: I'm not a professional musician, anyone who is should add something where they believe it's necessary).
The first chords of the chorus are as follows:
F sharp, B, B flat minor, E flat minor, B, D flat
This sequence repeats similarly but not identically as follows:
F sharp, E flat minor, B flat minor, B, D flat
The difference is all in the second, third, and fourth position chords, which are the same but placed in reverse order in the two sequences.
A substantial difference.
"If by calling you I could say goodbye, I would call you"
The first sequence transmits, at least to me it does, maybe because the first two chords are in major, a clear positive feeling of hope, of illusion.
"If seeing you again I were sure you wouldn't suffer, I would see you again"
The second sequence, with the three chords in reverse order, on the contrary, transmits, perhaps because the second chord is now in minor, a slightly veiled feeling of impending disillusionment.
A back and forth along the harmonic scale made up of those three chords, almost as if the chorus were rewinding on itself.
But... it's at the end of the second sequence that Morricone truly places his magic, with the help of Costanzo's text metrics.
While in the first sequence of chords the last two syllables "re" and "i" (of "rivedrei") are respectively on the B and D flat chords (fourth and fifth chord), in the second sequence they are on the D flat (fifth chord) and... F sharp.
This new chord, necessary to cover the final syllable "i" of the second sequence, is used as a new "step" by the song which regains momentum and restarts its chorus, with a B flat (major) chord, in a higher key.
A run-up, a final last attempt to try to grasp something fleeting, that moves away.
A musical metaphor (whatever that means) in all respects.
I think that this thing I've tried (poorly) to describe is one of the most beautiful and extraordinary among all the (gorgeous) things composed by maestro Morricone.
Formal, "mathematical" beauty (the inversion of the three chords, the additional "step" musically, but also the repetition of the chorus in a higher key) and content (the different emotions evoked by the two sequences of the chorus, by the "step", and by the key change itself) reflect one another to perfection, somewhat like in the works of a certain Johann Sebastian Bach (and the comparison should not seem blasphemous).
Long life, in the Paradise of musicians, to maestro Morricone.
And kudos to Costanzo as well.
I'm done.
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