That Roberto Angelini is a good guy is beyond doubt. Maybe not exactly a home and church type, and I wouldn’t bet on seeing him help an old lady cross the street someday. Be that as it may, from the outside, Angelini appears as an introverted type, handsome enough, brooding as he appears on the cover of this album. Sincere above all, with that kind of sincerity that can sometimes be frightening and to which we are no longer accustomed. Because someone who puts together Sulla sponda del fiume like that, without any regard for rhymes or linguistic embellishments for their own sake, can only have my esteem and appreciation.

But we all know that sincerity is still a double-edged sword: it seems clear to me that in this case, the Roman guitarist has done what is often said... missed the mark.

Angelini has been an excellent student: he graduated with the professors Silvestri - Gazzè - Fabi, the latter being his advisor. From him, he derives much of his poetic style; from his arrangements, he molds a vision of song form that recently veers towards an understated and elegant electronic simplicity, barely hinted at by the rhythm that often recalls the golden era of d'n'b. However, although Angelini wisely follows his path, often arduous - his solo live performances are always stages of a personal search that for now seems endless - there remains a clear division between him and his mentor, whether due to the experience that separates them or the innate sweetness that has always been the hallmark of the long-haired Fabi.

So, after the excellent performance of "Vista Concessa", it honestly seems to me that Angelini has lost his way a bit. And the statements preceding the album release weren’t exactly promising: a collection of sounds in freedom, they said, no longer restrained by song form and now finally released from the songwriter's mind. Which is somewhat the metaphor of what actually happened to Phineas Gage, a railway worker who was literally pierced by a rod and, after the incident, lived his last twelve years completely free of inhibitions, conducting his life in a state of semi-consciousness. The dream of every artist, basically.

However, the pop song cannot ignore the necessary smoothing of edges: it needs respect for form, attention, and care in the creation process. Very few can afford to release mere demos - like Nick Drake, is it a coincidence? - without appearing sloppy and inconclusive. Which (and I’ll stop beating around the bush) is what happens with this record: what should be its strong point ends up being its worst flaw. The two excellent opening tracks don’t save it, the instrumental opening Nella testa di.. and the excellent single Cenere (evidently what remains from Vulcano), where I particularly like to highlight the album’s most inspired couplet "chi spegnerà il fuoco che dilaga in me non troverà nient'altro che cenere". Not if more uncertain episodes like Felafel, Come sei, Vento e Pioggia, along with the embarrassing Blues senza Mutande that closes the album, are lined up. Angelini has managed to overshadow his enormous skill with the six strings - in this case, the comparison to Drake is not unfounded - highlighting the flaws of the album more than its inevitable merits: this is the bitter taste it leaves us at the end of listening. The lyrics don't stand out, and ultimately the interpretative intensity is also unsatisfactory - perhaps a misinterpretation of the canons that go from Drake through early Ben Harper acoustic albums and reach the aforementioned three mentors - and what are ultimately missing are the songs worthy of being remembered.

Uncertain thus between blues (Black Eyed Dog) and trivial soundtrack experimentation (Gibilterra, Vento e Pioggia) that feels much like a way to avoid writing new songs, Angelini seemed lost after this endeavor. It might not be coincidental that shortly thereafter, he embarked on a collaboration with Pier Cortese for the Discoverland project, two decidedly successful cover albums that I feel confident in recommending for purchase. Returning to more reassuring tracks was a blessing because not always digging into the deepest recesses of the soul means conducting one's work with quality.

I personally look forward to the next move.

Tracklist and Videos

01   Cenere (05:49)

02   Roma mia d'estate (05:01)

03   Falafel (03:20)

04   Gibilterra (05:10)

05   Al mio risveglio (04:38)

06   Black Eyed Dog (03:37)

07   Come sei (03:42)

08   Blues senza mutande (05:01)

09   Vento e pioggia (02:22)

10   Nella testa di Phineas Gage (05:04)

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