Renato Zero
Tregua

It is 1973 and while the world outside was falling apart a strange character sees the light, having been trapped in a jar for 20 years and 30,000 centuries, he decides to assert himself in a completely original way within the Italian music scene. Despite a lanky and almost emaciated body, he bursts onto the scene with considerable noise, his name is Renato Zero.

In a period marked by strong ideological dichotomies, he doesn't appear to be politically aligned, and for this reason, feeling detached from that world, he feels the urgent need to create a personal space. He does this by breaking away from everything that was established at that time, founding his poetics on a strong display of transgression and diversity, which will soon lead him to immense success: men, women, the elderly, and children, regardless of their social class, follow and support him.

Capable of creating a new way of presenting music, in an ambiguous, irregular manner that challenges conventions, where sequins and rhinestones dominate without compromising a social commitment. Infusing his works with image and spectacle, utilizing all the auditory and visual potential of the “song-theater.” Everything blends through overwhelming and showy sets, starting from the wardrobe which is also closely linked to the themes of his songs.

7 years after “No, Mamma, No!” Renato Zero will release his seventh studio album titled “Tregua.” The first in a series of double albums, it proves to be the freshest and most personal work within the entire discography of the Roman singer-songwriter, with themes more relevant than ever, simple and effective language, and few fillers despite the 18 tracks.

It is divided into three strands: autobiographical, social, and religious:

If at first he sang “La favola mia”

“E mi trucco perché la vita mia
Non mi riconosca e vada via”

In “Tregua,” it moves to “Niente trucco stasera” where Renato, through a soliloquy, decides that perhaps it's time to change, to shed excessive mannerisms, to become less artificial, to the point of opening the album's tour by choosing to forgo makeup for the first time:

“Che quest'uomo, sia un uomo...
Non la tua bestia rara!
Ti ho cercato...
Ti ho inventato...

Divertito, amato!
E vestito, da Pierrot,
Ho riso e pianto, più di un po'!”

In the autobiographical strand, songs like “Grazie a te” and the intense “L’ultimo luna park” follow.

On the social front, there are tracks like “Non Sparare” against poaching and the duo “Santa Giovanna” and “Onda Gay,” two pieces that seek to be the flag bearers of an authentic and sincere way of living, leaving behind any prejudice and being proud of who you are and where you feel you belong; 40 years later, they are more contemporary than ever:

“Quanta paura ti fa
Quello che il mondo dirà!
Quell'etichetta, non c'è via di mezzo
È pettegolezzo, o mania!
Sgualdrina, lesbica, o figlia di Maria!”

Then there are more lighthearted and ironic pieces like “Amore si, amore no” and “Profumi, balocchi e maritozzi” and those more well-known like “Amico.”

And finally, the religious theme with “Potrebbe essere Dio” and that small masterpiece that is “Buon Natale”:

“Nessuno violentava
Quel sogno che per mano ti portava

Giocavi allo sceriffo
E per te un buono non era un fesso
E il bersaglio era finto
Non era un uomo steso sul cemento

Perché non fosse una parola il bene.”

The album represents a sort of awakening for the author, who, unable to bear the weight of his alter ego anymore, emerges defeated from the internal duel between man and artist.

Having reached the threshold of 30 years old and exhausted by success, Renato Zero needs a truce, both from the public and, primarily, from himself.

As suggested by the cover, Renato Zero is reborn, and in this unconscious human-artistic palingenesis, he does not know that part of him will die forever. In subsequent works, there is no longer anything of the nonconformist and disquieting, only cloying moralism exacerbated especially by a strong religious influence.

Of Zero, there is no longer any trace.