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It was 1977 and I can't imagine Naples that year, I can't, but I do imagine the faces. The curly hair of young people wrapped in total-jeans, thrilling, the white Superga getting stained with asphalt, the blue Vespas darting through traffic, all then reunited in Troisi's films. These young people caught in the middle, between the future earthquake and the remnants of cholera, so far from the explosion of punk, yet with "No Future" irremediably tattooed on their foreheads.
In 77 Pino Daniele was twenty-two years old, with fluffy hair, a big round face, and had no idea of punk's existence. I don't know what intent drove him, I only know that he took his guitar and began to describe the Naples that surrounded him and inadvertently ended up making the first Italian punk record.
"Terra Mia" is the "The Dubliners" for Neapolitans. Many life (or non-life) stories chasing and completing each other until reaching a terrible cyclical conclusion (or non-conclusion) that weighs on the conscience of the individual now definitively alienated from the rest of the world that has closed itself off, retreated, onto itself. "Terra Mia" is the way a Neapolitan takes to talk about himself and his life: terrible content that breaks backs, but delivered with a smile in that bittersweet way that Naples forces you to learn through blows and kicks in the teeth. "Terra Mia" is the quintessence of the Marxist-qualunquista that can germinate only in this place (or non-place). "Terra Mia," in its merits and its bestialities, is Naples, and the Gennariello on the cover offering a clod of this land is saying that it's not necessary to be there to know the things of this world, of Naples. It is necessary to be there only to be known by things, to let them grow on you like mushrooms, to dirty yourself with reality.
Tomorrow Andrea discusses his thesis. In a week, he'll flee to Belgium. It's over... one by one, we will all leave. I prepared a note for him. I wrote him: "Barres, nationalist, French reactionary, wrote: "there is no freedom of thought. I can only live according to my dead. They and my land command me a certain activity." Do not forget the natural selection you participated in."
The record is over, I lift the needle. I have something in my throat... I attach the note to a copy of "Terra Mia" ...to remind him who he is and where he comes from, where he grew up and who educated him. Even in Bastogne, a Neapolitan remains always a Neapolitan.
Tracklist Lyrics and Samples
01 Napule è (03:49)
Napule è mille culure
Napule è mille paure
Napule è a voce de' criature
che saglie chianu chianu e
tu sai ca nun si sulo.
Napule è nu sole amaro
Napule è n’addore 'e mare
Napule è 'na carta sporca
e nisciuno se ne importa e
ognuno aspetta a' ciorta.
Napule è 'na cammenata
int’e viche miezo all'ate
Napule è tutto 'nu suonno
e 'a sape tutt’o munno
ma nun sanno a verità.
Napule è mille culure
(Napule è mille paure)
Napule è 'nu sole amaro
(Napule è n’addore e' mare)
Napule è 'na carta sporca
(e nisciuno se ne importa)
Napule è 'na camminata
(int’e viche miezo all'ate)
Napule è tutto nu suonno
(e a' sape tutt’o munno)
07 Terra mia (02:08)
Comm'è triste, comm'è amaro
Assettarse pe guardà'
Tutt'e ccose tutt'è parole
Ca niente pònno fa'
Si m'accido je agg'jettato
Chellu ppoco 'e libertà
Ca sta' terra, chesta gente
'nu juorno m'adda da'
Terra mia terra mia
comm'è bello a la penzà'
Terra mia terra mia
comm'è bello a la guardà
Nun è 'o vero nun è sempe 'o stesso
Tutt'e juornë po' cagnà'
Ogge è deritto, dimane è stuorto
E chesta vita se ne và
'E vecchie vanno dinto a chiesa
Cu' a curona pe' prià'
E 'a paura 'e chesta morte
Ca nun ce vo' lassà'
Terra mia terra mia
Tu si' chiena 'e libbertà
Terra mia terra mia
I' mò sento 'a libbertà.
11 Cammina cammina (02:50)
Nc'oppa l'evera ca addore se ne scennene e' culure
e cammina o vicchiariello sotta a luna
quante vote s'è fermato pe' parlà cu qualcheruno
e nun c'è sta mai nisciuno che se ferma po' sentì
E cammina, cammina vicino ò puorto
e rirenno pensa a' morte
se venisse mò fosse cchiù cuntento
tanto io parlo e nisciuno me sento
Guardando o mare penso a' Mariaca' mo nun ce sta cchiù
so sulo tre anni e ce' penso tutte e' sere
passo o' tiempo e nun me pare o vero
E cammina, cammina vicino ò puorto
e chiagnenno aspetta a' morte
sotta a' luna nun parla nisciuno
sotta a' luna nisciuno vo' sentì
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Other reviews
By DAVIDE DANIELE
A brilliant album that would require an analysis different from a simple telegraphic list of the tracks present in it.
Made by a genius who, at only 22 years old, published a work still unique in its kind.
By Raimondo A. Vailatti
"If Pino Daniele still lived in his lower floor, on his Via Medina, in his Naples, he would (re)write a great album again."
"We have no choice but to listen to the original Terra Mia, the one released on the record market at the end of the seventies."
By enbar77
With 'Terra mia', the first Pino Daniele, the profound one, the masterful one, lights up with healthy vigor... one of the most beautiful albums in Italian music.
'Suonno d’ajere' is, in my opinion, the most beautiful Neapolitan song of the second school of thought mentioned.
By MarkRChandar
The work is permeated with melancholic poetry, with lyrics recalling detached dreams.
The first Italian punk record, because innovation is the preservation and development of tradition.
