Morgan con la i
Blu

"Blu" is an album that those familiar with the music of Morgan Colaianni and company have been eagerly anticipating for some time. The two previous works, especially "21 metri," left an electricity in the air similar to those seconds before a summer storm. The album has arrived, and the five Roman guys have both confirmed and surprised.

It certainly helps to have professional production backing (Roberto Angelini's FioriRari), the numerous concerts certainly helped, and the parallel projects undertaken by the band members in the meantime certainly help as well. However, what really counts is how the instruments and voices respond to Colaianni's writing, and in this work, we find excellent results more than ever. The fresh, urban student style we appreciated in "21 metri" is confirmed and shows that it can express itself with mature words and gestures: "Blu" is an ironic yet very intimate musical journey; it's precisely the domestic dimension of some lyrics, which for the band's peers may recall late-night chats with housemates after returning from different parties, that makes the album unique in its genre.

The album's leading track, "La melatonina," lives on a bizarre, borderline pop musical structure, yet finds its powerful climax in the central emotional break "ti sparerei / amore mio." The little tune sung almost under the breath by the saxophone gracefully blends with the lyrics, slowly leading us towards a finale that is at times neurotic, which one falls in love with only after a few listens. The choice of "Anni '80" as the first track of the completed work is not by chance, as it is indeed the most positive and sunny piece of the work, fully in line with Colaianni's style, who isn't shy about showing his ID card ("vita mia / sei arrivata troppo tardi / gli anni '80 mi piacevano") to an audience that is nonetheless understanding and capable of grasping those weekend nuances without exams. The theme of love is never absent, and it is precisely from this track that a journey begins, spanning the entire album, where the writing's prime mover is never lost sight of: the direct and shameless dedication of pieces of one's life to the person being looked at in the eyes. In this sense, the eighth track, "My sweetest boy," is incredibly powerful, in which a perfect Chiara Monaldi introduces us to an intimate and reflective piece that brings us back, as if resuming an interrupted and then stitched film, to the atmospheres of "Io forse me ne andrei" (in "21 metri"). The themes of travel and the typical indecisions of a powerful and direct love return with vigor: "sei una ragione in più / per ridere / sei una ragione in più / per ridere." The piece allows itself to grow with strong pulsations, carried by the sax over an elegant burst of timpani and tom, before returning to the initial dimension. The delicate "ma ora tremo" sung in two voices by Morgan and Chiara clears away any superstructure in an instant, transporting the listener into the rich, complicated world of university years and significant choices. Rarely do pieces occur that generate such transport.

The album closes with a fun and technically perfect tribute to Chiara's voice and presence, as she reinterprets "Les passants" by the French artist Zaz, sung in excellent French over an arrangement that reveals the band members' love for playing music. A piece that solidly avoids clashing with the rest of the album, positioning itself as a statement of intent for this young Roman band: as if to say, "we like playing the music we love, not making albums."

The collaborations make this album musically complete, and the additions of Francesco Forni on guitars and strings in several tracks are appreciated. The Morgan with the i confirm themselves as one of the Italian bands to watch in the coming years, particularly for their elegant and relaxed way of communicating the troubles and joys of a generation that rarely expresses itself fully, as happens in this album.