Renato Zero
Zeronove tour

Marco Travaglio was also present, at the end of November, for the second concert of Renato Zero at the PalaOlimpico in Turin. His presence should not be surprising: among many pseudo-intellectuals who consider Zero little more than a footnote in the history of Italian music and entertainment, Travaglio seems to be one of the few to have grasped the philosophy and art of the former Montagnola boy.

Marco said: "I adore Renato Zero. I adore him because the critics don't like him, which could already be enough. But I adore him mainly because his songs stick in your head and remain singable and whistable for years, for decades. I adore him because he cares about melody and imagination, about the Italian tradition. Because he makes music, not noise. Because he hasn't surrendered to the dictatorship of rap and funky. I adore him because he's been singing for over thirty years and still hasn't become tiresome. I adore him because anyone who lasts thirty years cannot be a bluff. I adore him because, at his concerts, you meet a bit of everyone: sixty-year-olds, fifteen-year-olds, disreputable rascals, and respectable ladies. Because he knew how to renew himself without denying himself, transitioning from the heavy makeup of the '70s, like our "Kiss," to the always trashy but more settled look of recent years. Because he's self-ironic and doesn't take himself too seriously. Because he's a great stage animal, a true performer, a complete showman who lives the song and makes it live with his whole being. I adore him because he's much more intelligent than he appears and than people say. Because he writes excellent lyrics without posing as "committed," and he never turned it into politics."

After this necessary, and for many readers surprising, introduction, let's move on to the description of the concert, part of a tour, Zeronove, which expanded from the initially planned 12 dates to 30, following the sales boom of "Presente". Promptly at 9 PM, the lights go out while the stage, very simple and essential, dominated by three large opened white fans, lights up. On the fans, images of all of Renato's old costumes are projected, then quickly all the covers of his 60 or perhaps more albums and collections released in his very long career scroll by. Suddenly the stage darkens and the notes of... "Vivo"!!!!! Renato enters the scene all in black, with a long overcoat and a bowler hat, and the now indispensable round glasses. In person, he looks less heavy than he appears on TV.

Straightaway, the concert moves to "Ancora qui", the song that propelled the album Presente to great success, with Renato going wild with some dance steps, sending the audience into a frenzy. This is followed by "Questi amori", another new track, but much less convincing than the previous one.

There is a long instrumental tail before the return to the scene: the fans close and reveal the musicians, while the notes of "Emergenza noia" start with Renato now in a white jacket and bowler hat and black pants. It's then time for the romantic "Mentre aspetto che ritorni", at the end of which begins the first of many speeches that will intersperse the various songs. From bright, the stage becomes dark and gloomy, while on the white backdrop, behind the musicians, the suffering faces of many children are projected: it is the masterpiece "Qualcuno mi renda l'anima", from 1974, which gives more than a chill to the spectators.

Afterwards, the tension is broken by "L'incontro", also taken from Presente. In the end, the songs from the new CD will be 12, with the addition of an unreleased one: although it's a good album, 12 tracks are excessive. Fortunately, we dive back into absolute poetry with "Inventi". The magical moment continues: an image of the decomposing Christ introduces "Potrebbe essere Dio", another piece to be framed. At this point, a new twist: the white backdrop rises and reveals an orchestra of 26 elements including strings and horns. Renato returns to the scene all in white, including pants, and starts "Non smetterei più"; after the first verse, Mario Biondi joins, dressed like Renato, but all in black. A beautiful moment. Then Mario sings "This Is What You Are", much appreciated by the audience. Another speech by Renato about his beginnings introduces another vintage track, "Salvami", ruined by the addition of a new verse that doesn't fit with the original text.

This is where the painful notes begin: Renato reappears on stage this time in turquoise and sings in sequence four tracks from Presente: "L'ormonauta", "Almeno una parola", "Ambulante" and "Quando parlerò di te". The effect of the latter, a delicate and successful love song, is unfortunately diluted by the fatigue and even the boredom caused by the previous three tracks.

Fortunately, the show recovers with what will prove to be, there was no doubt about it, the most applauded moment of the evening: "Morire qui", from the album Zerofobia, in a decidedly rock version with Renato having fun on stage, dressed all in red. It is followed by the new "Un altra gioventù" (beautiful) and then another gem, "Figaro", from the 1998 album Amore dopo Amore. It is expected, among various socially-focused speeches, with a good dose of insults to Brunetta and Bondi, that at this point, approaching the end, the concert will continue with some classic hits. But nothing doing.

Renato returns to the scene with a sombrero and Mexican poncho to replay the very old "113" that no one knows (and to be honest, they weren't missing much). The new "Muoviti" and "Professore" do not help to lift the situation, while "Felici e perdenti", although rhythmic, does not enthuse.

The atmosphere becomes hieratic and solemn for "Il sole che non vedi", probably the best track from Presente, with Renato in a silver tunic. It is the encore moment: Zero, having exited from center stage, re-enters the scene from a trap door that catapults him into a cone of light: dressed as an Arctic explorer, all in white, complete with helmet, he sings "Buon Natale", another little-known but very significant vintage track in its lyrics. During the last verses, snowflakes descend from above, making everything even more enchanting.

Renato exits to reappear with a luminescent black jacket and sings the mediocre "I migliori anni della nostra vita". Called loudly by the public, he returns with the unreleased "Gli unici", dedicated to the sorcini or zerofolli, and spraying champagne on the barrier spectators. In the end, one might expect him to sing "Il cielo", but everything ends like this.

What to say? People did not leave disappointed, but they certainly went away bewildered by an incomprehensible setlist. It's impossible to give a rating, I opt for abstention (the lack of stars stands for "not assessable"). Renato still confirms himself as a thoroughbred singer-songwriter, holds the stage with impressive authority and has a truly, truly beautiful voice, maintained at excellent levels throughout the show, which started at 9 PM and ended precisely at midnight.

Let’s hope that in the next round of concerts, supposedly resuming in April, Renato decides to recover some "historic" songs: after all, among his repertoire of the '70s and early '80s, there are plenty of great songs.