Riccardo Cocciante
Mu

Cocciante? Progressive? Resign yourself, but in this case, it's the reality.

Aware of my fate and a certain snobbery, accompanied by an eternal mass "labeling" prejudice against some artists, which too often and unjustly prevails over the realm of generalized Italian music, I will somehow try to introduce to many a unique work in the discography of the curly-haired fellow that came out at the start of his career, with an apparently bizarre title that recalls the sound of the friendly domestic bovine, symbol moreover of our fiko fikissimo site. It is pointless to struggle to remind that in the first half of the '70s, progressive rock swept us away with its wave of freshness and innovative sounds (even stones know it by now), and it is precisely in this field that the then twenty-six-year-old singer-songwriter with bright prospects, with a couple of disappointing singles sung in English to his credit, debuted in Italian in the autumn of 1972 with the encouraging concept album "Mu", unfortunately disowned and semi-unknown among his usual admirers, who were mostly bewitched by the poetic melodies of his more celebrated and famous pieces that would see the light immediately after this debut album.

Did you really think that “Mu” referred to the cow? Certainly not. Mu is, just like Atlantis, a presumed lost continent, but on the Pacific side of the Americas, and like Atlantis, scholars and theorists have been debating for about two centuries about the mysterious existence of this other piece of land that sank, roughly the size of Africa, even presuming that Easter Island was what emerged from the continent, thus the highest peak.

Cocciante, in a pseudo-biblical context, narrates the mythological birth of Mu, the result of a massive agglomeration of lava spewed violently by submerged volcanoes and settled on the ocean, with the subsequent stabilization of the roots on the seabed. From there on, it echoes Genesis, the expansion and evolution of forests and living creatures that colonize the land and make it their own, stirring passions, frictions, and envies, so that as per the script, the pandemic rages with all God's wrath, and some men bearers of love regenerate, and prosperity returns, until suddenly the waters reclaim what they had created, creatures included, who in the meantime had begun to worship God and the light that had returned to shine on the new world.

The album is divided into four parts of two songs each, even though they are all connected to each other, all preceded by an instrumental introduction where the sitar creates a sense of calm and dispels all imagination. Like every respectable prog album, all the instruments of the case sneak in turn with excellence beyond the usual bass, drums, and electric guitars: organ, Fender piano, mellotron, harp, ocarina, flute, harpsichord, tumba congas, and synthesizers are masterfully manipulated to expand the play of harmonies and effects that immerse us in the anachronistic journey to this hypothetical promised land, twin of Atlantis.

The vinyl cover is very special and noteworthy and is composed of four overlapping parts, three of which die-cut in the center like the rigid cardboard books for early childhood, forming an ensemble of figures that surrealistically represent Cocciante's face: the main part is the modern world where factories, airplanes, satellites, and status symbols prevail. Then moves to the second with plants and animals where Riccardo peers from a bush, then rocks and mountains where eyes break through a crack in the rock, and finally clear appears the singer-songwriter’s portrait with a twilight sky in the background. For those who know a bit of progressive made in Italy, they will have noticed the covers of some albums by "The Trip" and "Quella vecchia locanda." These are some minds from the "Up & Down Studio" who took care of the beautiful drawings, both of those groups and of "Mu."

This is not one of those records where you exclaim: "My God, that solo gives me a big chill down my spine" or "Compared to King Crimson they are chronic flops" and it can never fully equal neither the P.F.M. nor the Area and without any doubt, we all already agree that if it had been performed by Demetrio Stratos, we would have a first-rate masterpiece in the speakers, but before saying "eh well, Cocciante grosses me out upfront," be rational, and if you've never listened to it, don't prejudge this excellent detour into symphonic progressive rock, which somewhat by chance and somewhat for fun, at the dawn of the long "Cocciante" path, was born and ended just like "Mu," the mysterious sunken continent.