Renato Zero
Amore Dopo Amore

THE REVIEW

I suspect, and this suspicion is slowly turning into certainty, that our fine, hard-core songwriters are slowly converting to banality and collective madness. Exaggeration? No, observation.

Now, we all pay the annual Rai license fee (and even here, there would be much to discuss about the whys and wherefores, but let's leave it): apart from Montalbano, Fabio Fazio, "Sfide", "Blob", "Report", and "Ballarò", what is the Italian radio and television system capable of offering us that is interesting and decent? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Yet, in the long spring of 2000 on Rai Uno, in prime time, or rather, prime time proper, an unbalanced and shabby show, "All the Zeroes in the World", went on air, presented, conceived, created, ruined by Renato Zero. Five (or six?) episodes dedicated to the National Renatone, in which, between a duet with Gigi Proietti and a pseudo-philosophical endless sermon, our dear Fiacchini managed to give himself two satisfactions: a) a ton of practically freeloaded money; b) a mega populist commercial that, unfortunately, will manage to boost his ratings.

All this, in reality, was preceded about two years earlier by a dark and pompous album (record-breaking sales, of course) of rare and disconcerting ugliness. It was titled "Amore dopo amore" (1998) and stayed on the charts for almost five months (a record, but also a very sad realization of the musical stupidity of half the Italian population), and the fact that this album is truly horrible is immediately demonstrated by the horrendous cover photograph. But the public isn't fazed by these trifles, and it doesn't matter if Renato Zero decides to care little about arrangements, music, and lyrics, what's important is that people spend, what's important is that the shelves in megastores remain empty, what's important, in short, is earning. After all, in recent years, Renato Zero has believed himself to have become a kind of demigod and takes pleasure like a coward in being loved and idolized by fans (obstinate, not to say worse): there would be no words (and indeed there are none) to review a song titled "La pace sia con te (e con il tuo spirito)".

Maybe, but if this trend continues, soon in the Vatican, instead of Pope Ratzinger blessing the faithful, it will be Renato Zero (who will naturally bless the "sorcini"). And then there are a series of songs of extremely low musical quality: perhaps the best is "Cercami", but immediately after comes "Figaro", and then everything goes to glory.

"Take what you need, the best beat of my heart / the most amazing springs, all the love you want / the sweetness you won't find elsewhere...",

this alone would be enough to tie him up and throw him in a cave to meditate for eternity. Naturally, after this umpteenth undeserved popular triumph (first there were "L'imperfetto" and, to leave nothing out, "Sulle tracce dell'imperfetto") the National Renatone will start, almost indecently, a mega expensive and pompous Italian tour which will culminate, lo and behold, in a most precious (so to speak) live album, "Amore dopo amore, tour dopo tour", containing, among other things, a very weak unpublished song, "Si sta facendo notte".

It's good to have a sweet tooth, but here, guys, we're scraping the barrel. Of course, for those who love and idolize him, everything is fine, but for those who, like myself, would like to listen to professional music (not good, at least professional), listening to this boring "Amore dopo amore" is torture at the limits of the unbearable. How many regrets, how many tears: I remember a sprightly young man, and perhaps a little crazy, who incited entire generations of bigots and purists to the sound, clear and bright, of "Mi vendo": "...I sell myself, the grit you don't have / in exchange for your pride, I give you two wings you know / I sell myself, and at a good price, you know".

Where has that young man gone? Who stole his cheekiness and courage? We want Renato back. The real one.