Pino Daniele
Vai Mo'

DE PROFUNDIS. Every time I think about Daniele's records, it feels like I'm talking about someone who is no longer with us. His current production irritates me to such an extent that I pretend it doesn't exist. I can't stand those who make music (and boast about it!) "with the handbrake on." If a person has talent, why must they produce mediocre work? As usual, the judgment and verdict are up to you...

This was his fourth effort, published in 1981, and by then, he had long ceased to be a musical promise and had become a pleasant reality. It is usually thought that the album of maturity is the third one: in my opinion, it's this one. One of the many reasons that lead me to this consideration is that its form is well studied. Placing two short and slow songs with a rarefied and melancholic atmosphere, one at the end of each "side," almost dividing the album into two distinct parts, is not a random choice. At the end of side A, "Sulo Pe' Parlà" sounds almost like a prayer sung with an intangible backdrop of keyboards (Joe Amoruso) and double bass (Rino Zurzolo). On the other side of the vinyl, the concluding "È Sempe Sera" is a Latin lullaby where a melodica sadly plays over the percussion just barely touched by Tony Esposito. Another peculiarity: the words "evening," "night," and "day/daytime" are cited multiple times in the lyrics, almost wanting to give each song the right placement in the 24-hour timeframe through which the entire work seems, ideally, to unfold.

To arouse curiosity about the content of the entire album, "Yes I Know My Way" was used, which is the song that best serves this purpose, with that catchy and carefree rhythm dictated by Tullio De Piscopo's drums, driving the momentum of the other instruments. I don't think it's the best track (I struggle to find one!), but it's the one that best interprets the definition of "metropolitan blues," which, if I'm not mistaken, was coined during that period and, naturally applied as a label, in a typically very superficial manner, to this record as well. It's too reductive to speak of his music by only referencing the blues. Here you find everything: funky, jazz, Mediterranean and Neapolitan musical tradition, and a lot of creativity to blend it all together. A medley of genres seasoned with that defiant aggression that was somewhat his trademark ("Che Te Ne Fotte"), and that love/hate towards America, a mother always generous in providing lessons and inspiring various flirtations and cues here and there, as in the New Orleans-style balancing act of Fabio Forte's trombone in "Have You Seen My Shoes," and in the brushes on the snare of "Un Giorno Che Non Va," a soft piece that recalls the atmosphere of smoky, disreputable nightclubs overseas.

Lastly, the noteworthy musicians that Pinone loved to surround himself with during that period. Besides those already mentioned, as I take attendance, I notice James Senese is missing: his sax solo in "Notte Che Se Ne Va" is as necessary as salt in pasta. Unfortunately, his presence on this 33 rpm is limited to that, but during those years, he always contributed to the Daniele cause with dedication like the others.

I would recommend this album to those who think the '80s only produced little songs, materialism, and ephemeral fashions...