Pino Daniele
Il mio nome è Pino Daniele e vivo qui

Maybe it's because I'm in a good mood. The weather outside is beautiful, and it's an incredibly and unfairly hot day. Maybe it's because no customer upset me today. Perhaps it's because "Iguana Café," the previous album, had pissed me off so much... anyhow... whatever it is, this Pino Daniele album seems much less bad than usual to me. I see a highly polished and well-refined production. It seems that Pino believes in it a bit more. Even the duets with Giorgia, a character I find quite debatable as a clone of the already modest Houston and Carey, aren't so terrible. The lyrics aren't exactly beautiful, but they aren't revolting either, which has happened all too often recently.

The album opens in a very "Pino Daniele" manner: you immediately recognize that Santana-esque guitar with an Arabic-Neapolitan twist, typical of our artist, as you immediately notice a classic chord progression of his, already used elsewhere and perhaps too often. However, the result isn't bad, and this "Back Home" doesn't make you hate it. In fact, it's a good opening track that promises much and signifies a lot about the album to follow: a work that shines for its perfect sounds, manic care of arrangements, and especially for a good and substantial use of electronics, quite novel for the author. In almost every track, in fact, sequences, keyboards, drums, and electronic percussions abound. But not as a tribute to electronics like we might define, positively, "Il Vuoto" by Battiato or negatively (perhaps... who knows) the latest by Righeira. Here, electronics blend almost perfectly with acoustic guitars, real percussions with “fake” ones, and, believe it or not, you even hear instruments on the verge of being forgotten. There's, in fact, a solo sax, beautifully played by Bob Sheppard, in the first duet with Giorgia ("Il Giorno E La Notte") and a very Cuban and absolutely appropriate horn section in "Ruhm And Coca". Could the era of ultrachitarrismo for its own sake, arbitrary and dictatorial, a symbol of a more banal than simple era, be ending...? Pino's voice is less "fluted" than in the recent past, although unfortunately, we are very far from the outrageous power of the golden times, and his guitar still soars high and higher, impeccable and perfect, even if the phrases and improvisations are always the same and somehow feel "already heard". The fact is there’s a lot of room for instruments (more than usual), and that's a good thing in itself. Most importantly, it certifies a choice that we might define as new (or very ancient), that is, making musical choices not too pandering to youngsters and (forgive me) not too feminine. My regular readers know my opinion: for me, Pino stopped being the "Giant He Was" when his young and beautiful wife influenced his artistic choices (and no one, not even -hypothetically- him, could convince me otherwise). He became effeminate, very delicate, as I said "fluted", forgetting the blues and the Neapolitan street that had made him and raised him, too often reducing himself to making "elevator music". Mind you, very well-crafted, but still "elevator music" or, if you prefer, background music for a clothing store or a pizzeria transplanted in foreign lands. In short: I don't know if there's a chance to see, or glimpse, a rebirth, a return to the past, a true return home ("Back Home"...?!), but there's surely hope. Moreover, Pino has always had the habit of concluding his albums with tracks that are significant of what would come next, and here "Passo Napoletano", the closing track of the album, is a true masterpiece. The electronics of the percussion, continuously changing and never out of place, are perfect, and the "Metheny-esque" guitar sings marvelously. The very brief Anglo-Neapolitan text (or Neapolitan and partly American, as the good Arbore would say) is simply perfect in its minimalism.
It could be the promise of something great or just a splendid stroke of luck. Even Tony Esposito reappears. The one from "Calimba De Luna"... No, the one from before, and obviously from now, the one who plays percussions excellently. The fact is that after listening to this album several times and with the right attention, I don't feel the fury that has regularly gripped me in recent years after paying my voluntary and traditional "tribute" to Uncle Pino. Either the product is good, or I'm genuinely in a good mood.