Nomadi
La settima onda

This time I'm going out on a limb, and it couldn't be otherwise. Twenty years have passed since I first heard that tape, and finding the CD edition some time ago filled (uh...) my heart with joy. Yes, it so happens that this is the first album of the post-Augusto era, often so rejected by early fans, but not so by younger ones who are able to appreciate even the vocal timbre of his replacement. After Carletti's departure, he chose not to replace the frontman with just one, but with two singers: coincidentally, the first - the young Danilo Sacco - had a tone very close to that of the great interpreter, so much so that one could doubt the sincere honesty of the hairy keyboardist. The desire to reap what had been sown over many years of travel was evident: yet we were in a period - the mid-nineties - which meant a lot for Italy in terms of relative progress, both historical and musical. The first echoes of grunge were reaching us, and we were enamored with some cheerful world bands, which perhaps were more prepared than we wanted to believe (Tazenda participating in Sanremo with Bertoli comes to mind, or Mau Mau, or even Gang who at that time had launched their folk trilogy; not to mention Almamegretta or Radiodervish who would debut shortly thereafter). In short, we are always on trend when it comes to novelties. The fact is that the Nomadi gathered all these influences, mixed them with their skill as honest craftsmen, and what emerged was an album they probably didn't even initially think of themselves. The Emilians had embarked on an interesting direction in the last albums with Augusto; they seemed to mimic the more engaged British counterparts, almost like a kind of Italian version of the Clash or the Mekons.

The complete maturation process took place in '94 with this album, where they appeared more like the 1982 Dexys Midnight Runners than the Mekons, given the gypsy twist of the arrangements and clothing. Italian minstrels chasing dreams and denouncing the deceptions of the powerful with guitars and accordions. And it was precisely with a nice accordion intro that La settima onda opened; the video perfectly clarified the spirit in which the musicians had fully immersed themselves and outlined the atmosphere you would feel within the album. The songs were almost equally divided, some more serious (yet never solemn) - Donna, Vivo forte, Guai se..., In favelas featuring Inti Illimani - others decidedly more carefree, like Ladro di sogni, the beautiful Sassofrasso, Il musicista, Le poesie di Enrico. Obviously, as carefree as a group of gypsies determined to steadfastly pursue their intellectual and musical path can be. These songs are often enriched by the lyrics of Taurian and the "poet" Romano Rossi, perfectly aligned with the inspiration of the music, as earthly as it is spiritual. If I wanted to make a comparison, the early Litfiba come to mind, those of the trilogy: the same great integrity accompanied by the steadfast spiritual aura that followed them, unfortunately lasting only a few years in both cases.

After all, it's easy to disguise as slobs if you have great musicians on your side. Indeed, the nineties probably saw the best formation of the Nomadi (as mentioned in these pages): Daniele Campani a true pneumatic hammer, Cico Falzone who was already known during Augusto's time, Elisa Minari who at 22 gave the whole ensemble a breath of fresh air. I mentioned earlier the second replacement for Augusto, and I haven't forgotten him. Francesco Gualerzi is undoubtedly my favorite of the sextet, partly for that hoarse, lazy voice, like a smoky jazz musician passing by by chance after nights in clubs, partly for his being an exceptional musician without ever flaunting it, able to master the clarinet, saxophone (his interventions in La settima onda and Il musicista are epic, with a very "Desmond-esque" solo) and guitar. Naturally, the cornerstone, the Cruyff that makes you win games because with someone like that you already know the others lose from the start.

Those looking for "classic" Nomadi will be disappointed by these sounds: this is an album that flows lightly, strong in rhythm, yet makes you reflect, quite far from the epicness of the Augustean period, though at times one can recognize the last few sparse remnants. The golden period won't last long: the year after the Nomadi will continue their search in Tibet, and the resulting album ("Lungo le vie del vento") won't have the same energy, or at least the same beautiful songs. These notes remain, the result of a series of unrepeatable moments, like many that happen in our lives. It’s all about stringing them together and collecting them so that we can admire them, even from a distance.

"The important thing is the individual, the important thing is the person
who transforms their own zone over time
the mud of winter covers the signs of the geraniums
yesterday engages today in tomorrow"

(Sassofrasso)