This evening, I watched "Caro Battiato" (rai3) amidst the anecdotes from Morandi, Carmen Consoli, Morgan, the songs performed by various singers (more or less pleasing to my ear - just think of Nannini who, without backup singers... forget about "I can try"...) in my mind, Battiato's voice preceded them all, once again confirming that, as always, I will only be able to listen to his voice through reproductions of recordings via technological devices. What sadness. My mind wanders through memories, and most likely the blame for my first deliberately repeated listening lies with the Festivalbar of 1997, with the green compilation in which, among Litfiba and 883, there was Franco Battiato, the one from Cuccurucucù, Bandiera bianca, Centro di gravità permanente, Voglio vederti danzare; in short, someone I couldn’t have not heard, even vaguely, at the age of ten. Years later, I adored Shocking in my town, L'era del cinghiale bianco, and many others, but the first repeated and semi-conscious listening was this
Franco Battiato - Di passaggio (Official Music Video)