I was 14 years old and for the first time I saw an LP at home. My future brother-in-law had gone off to the army and left his sound system (a filthy record player bought through Reader’s Digest selection) in my sister's care, along with six or seven records, a couple of DP albums including Made in Japan, one without a cover by I Rovescio della Medaglia (the Bible, a monstrous ballad), two from a somewhat unknown singer at the time (Invenzioni and Trapezio by a certain Renato Zero), something by Blue Öyster Cult, plus some scattered tracks by the Rolling Stones, the Beatles, and other rock junk from the early '70s. Well, among all these more or less pleasant LPs for the ears of a 14-year-old whose idol was more likely to be Little Tony than Faber, there were other records from a f*cking #genius, and so, amidst people pretending to be sane, I fell for this extravagant cantactor. In this, he cleans house of all the clichés that accompany singers. Years later, the same themes would be taken up by Edoardo Bennato in Sei Come Un Juke-Box Giorgio Gaber - Suona Chitarra (1969)