Richard Benson
Madre Tortura

There are those who play music and those who play a game. And the game is to sell their image by creating a persona. Some succeed. And that’s why I appreciate Richard Henry John Philip Benson (or Riccardo Bensoni, history will decide). He can't play, he can't compose, he makes up absurd stories, and his concerts are a tour de force of laughter, yet he is a real character.

I had the idea to review his “solo” album, as good old Riccardo would say... and what can I say? The album opens with the title track, Madre Tortura... but how many laughs hearing Benson who imitates (intentionally or not) Renato Zero. A pity, because the base is good, it's engaging, but Benson... no... he can't help but showcase his incredible technique and gives us dirty solos, incredible in the negative sense of the word... scales out of key... confused... and the situation doesn't change in the possibly fitting blues of "C'è ancora un colore nella notte". A very pleasant track but tell Benson to stop with his “pick fall” (by the way... has anyone ever figured out how to perform this technique he pioneers?) because when he starts, he throws in notes that make no sense.
And then here comes the true comedic masterpiece of the album: "Gerarchie Infernali" is a poem. No music, just him yelling like a madman against the clergy and religion. When you think you've been saved from his hyper-speed, you're mistaken: here comes the melody of "Adagio in RE" and Benson tries his best to do something good but alas... he fails. The album concludes with the tracks minus vocals, inviting fans to play them.

An album that's hard to digest. But maybe that's just right: Benson plays on himself and not his music. He is a character, he makes you laugh, and even this “great technique” of his is a very pleasant aspect of his comedy.