Pino Daniele
Iguana Café

Here's a record that makes you angry. And now I'll tell you why.
Necessary premise: I am among those who do not deny Pino Daniele a brilliant past, in fact: from 1978 to 1985 the Neapolitan guitarist was one of the most interesting figures on the national scene, capable as he was of mixing Neapolitan tradition, blues, jazz-fusion avant-garde, and pure songwriting. Essentially, for me, ever since the distant and beautiful "Ferry Boat," intelligent and deep lyrics in dialect were abandoned to make way for solemn banalities in Italian, the dream of a new and completely Italian musical path was definitively discarded.
From then on, there were alternating products that were just sufficient, clearly insufficient, and others with flashes of greatness or some awkward attempts.

Today, this very short album, just over thirty minutes comes out (someone who knows the basics of psychology must have suggested to him that people lose attention after half an hour...), and for this reason, it certainly doesn't cost any less – but that would be a discussion for another time and place... – that alternates the usual banalities with some small flash that could make one suspect that the great Pino still resides there, somewhere and certainly well hidden, but undoubtedly alive.
Let's be clear, another fundamental premise: there is no Pino Daniele product that is poorly played or produced. Always keep this in mind: he is an instrumentalist of absolute prestige for taste, imagination, and also technique. But this, as we well know, is not enough.
This album presents itself for once without the protagonist on the cover, and this could make us think well... But some doubt immediately arises when reading the "subtitle" "Latin blues and melodies". Well: I believe that things should be explained very little, especially in art, whether true or assumed. I think the listener doesn't need small manuals to understand what they are facing (especially, then, if they are wrong manuals: there is no, absolutely no trace of blues here...).

Well: let's put on the CD and a piano bar Latin rhythm starts that seems to be all done on the classic keyboard, with the recognizable guitar intervention. But... did he play it all himself...? Let's see and... no: there's even Nanà Vasconcelos, along with quite a few other people...! But the problem is you can't hear it, and the atmosphere, I repeat, is frankly keyboard-centric.
Thus also in most of the following tracks. With, however, some particular data that must absolutely be highlighted.
"It's Now Or Never," a famous Elvis cover of "O Sole Mio" and "Patricia," an ultra-famous melody, even exploited in the dance halls of Romagna, which Ry Cooder gave a skillful interpretation of a few years ago.
So, what is it...? Trash...? Camp, or deliberate trash...? Simple mistake...? Prank...? The fact is that it borders on smooth, and it's unclear whether the intention is very serious, semi-serious or if it's just a prank. Certainly, Pino Daniele has never been famous for pranks, which I believe can be counted on no hand. Bah... judgment suspended, but a slightly bitter taste remains in the mouth.
A couple of very short instrumentals. A couple of pseudo-classics which he had already accustomed us to in the previous pseudo-ambitious - but certainly pretentious - "Passi D'Autore", and the album is done and dusted. Really...?
Actually, no: the penultimate track, a very short (but imagine that) "Serenata A Fronn'e Limone", in Neapolitan, is beautiful, written by the same hand that wrote "Lazzari Felici", played on the same guitar, and - believe it or not - sung by the same voice, and not by that aphonic thing he had accustomed us to lately. Even the lyrics are beautiful, convincing us that it's really the Italian language that inspires him poorly.
And this is why you get angry: because if you search in the too many rooms of Pino Daniele's soul, that melodic Neapolitan bluesman, true and genuine, austere and impeccable, you find it. But maybe, unfortunately, not even he realizes it, or remembers it.