Words of love written on a typewriter.
And already the title brings me to the smoke that fills a room, to its swirls in mid-air, to the cigarette burning in the ashtray full of other extinguished, crushed ones. To a black Olivetti, to the crumpled sheet inserted, to the words, indeed, written on it. It is the most "Contian" title that I, personally, can imagine.
A splendid album. Neglected colleagues with guitar, double bass, and piano have a simple, pleasant melody. (as always) Paolo Conte enriches every song with an interpretation that winks at cabaret. The cabaret of a very refined jazz musician who nods his head while seated at the piano, never leaving it, conducting the orchestra with a gesture all his own (I wander off on live images of this seventy-year-old who moves slowly on stage during instrumental moments, lightly blowing on his musicians or conducting with strange gestures of his lips or fingers). The laughter in Mister Jive. And in the song that gives the title to the work.
An Old Mistake is the first masterpiece. Piano and voice. Feeling and emotion. Text...no, poetry among the most beautiful. As well as Eden, dedicated to a smile that delights, Mangy Wolves, rhythmic guitar, brief electric solo. Second and third masterpiece. And the next, unique, wonderful Words of Love Written on a Typewriter.
I fell in love with it after three seconds of listening. A man reads the divorce papers, probably with a bottle of whiskey or wine in hand. Half-empty. Between moments of clear melancholy, awareness, and considerations that find meaning only among the alcoholic fumes, this extraordinary artist gives us the hilarious skit of a man still in love in front of a divorce petition (or whatever the hell it is) with the piano following the ups and downs of sensations, a sardonic laugh interspersing the verses. Fourth masterpiece, then. And the next Ma si t'a vo' scurdà, in Neapolitan, slow start, cheerful chorus. Beautiful. The Midnight Canoe, original melody, catchy. Happy Feet, rhythmic, to dance to, female chorus akin to Mister Jive.
After Reveries the best album by Paolo Conte, the confirmation of his refinement and originality.
An album that, evaluated retrospectively, would certainly be difficult to define and date, and for this reason also beautiful.
The tracks of 'Parole d’amore…' are absolutely ethereal, as if they were suspended at an indefinable point in space and time.