In the now prehistoric astral year 1999, a show premiered on the small screens, more precisely on the fascist RaiTre, one of those programs that, right from the first episode, was destined to leave a mark like few others in the history of Italian TV: I am obviously referring to "Melevisione," a famous children's variety show that aimed to be an avant-garde educational/entertainment program; an absolutely risky, courageous experiment that was rewarded with incredible ratings that knocked out the share indicator, namely ISTAT.
The program in question shocked us all because it was something absolutely unexpected; excellently hosted by the elf Tonio Cartonio and supported by Fairy Gaia (former cover girl of Penthouse magazine), along with a myriad of guest stars such as - just to name the most important ones - Genio Abù Zazà, Lupo Fosco, Orco Bruno, Orco Rubio, "Melevisione" did not confine itself to classic entertainment like "Bim Bum Bam" with talking puppets and cartoons but rather pressed the accelerator on the educational and musical front. Thanks to them, in fact, we learned that saying "Lunedì" was wrong but rather one should say "Fioredì" or even "Venerdì" became "Pescedì" and they also taught us a new decimal system: for example, 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 became "uno," "bue," "re," "gatto," "pingue," "lei," "mette," "sotto"... genius!
But music was the real novelty: "Melevisione" was truly avant-garde, as it offered classical-inspired music with orchestration and sound solutions never before experimented even by the indispensable Cristina D'Avena, the diamond point of children's music on Mediaset. At the time, Rai spared no expense and did not hesitate to increase the license fee just to afford the production of the album I would like to present to you. The album, I say immediately, had a long gestation and in fact, it came out only in 2002, but this only testifies to the worthiness of the project which promised to be cared for in every detail, well-produced, ready to climb the charts for the joy of all of us who were anxiously awaiting it.
Certainly, an album with 34 songs (thirty-four!) is not easy to assimilate and at some points risks being indigestible to some, given that the inevitable filler songs sometimes break the magic and the sulfurous atmosphere of the product but in all honesty, I wouldn't worry too much, since on the other hand there are incredible heavy hitters. It is indeed the show's theme song, the title track "Melevisione," that opens the dance and immediately it's magic with what turns out to be a beautiful suite for trombone and clarinet that occasionally flows into a tribal accordion and maracas dance that leaves the listener amazed: 24 minutes that will brand the history of music. The listener has not yet recovered from such magnificence when almost quietly starts "Ambarabà Ciccicoccò" with delicate piano notes and the astonishing voice of Fairy Gaia which would suggest a ballad and instead, little by little, the rhythm section takes the upper hand with a syncopated drum and a detuned double bass that make the base decidedly funky; wonderful lyrics that immediately stick in mind "in mezzo al fantabosco c'è un tendone grosso grosso...". Poetry.
The album, for the moment, does not slow down the pace, and indeed the unleashed "Il Ballo Del Melastico" will make many shake their hips; "Tipiditappi" is a nice duet between our Fairy and Tonio Cartonio, who delight us with a progression of rhyming triplets that leave their mark and that take over the music which here is limited to Australian percussion that still creates its own atmosphere. It continues with "Ballo del Cabrillo," a beautiful piece of clear blues matrix with a voice-flute call and response that makes the famous "Strange Kind Of a Woman" by the Rolling Stones envious. It then continues with a range of pieces with a similar pop structure among which I would highlight "La Pignastica" that retraces certain sounds of American disco in all respects and that seem even to plagiarize a Diana Ross from the good old days; wonderful is the voice that tries to emulate, albeit with a lower tone, that of D'Avena. There is even room for social denunciation with the unexpected and sharp "Soldini Sonanti" that somehow foresaw (let's remember the album came out in 2002) the euro disaster, a very strong currency, but that burdens poor people struggling with mortgages to pay, daily expenses, etc...
There would be much more to write about, but I believe I've given the idea: I'll highlight finally the two "Con La Carta Si Può" and "Gli Scacchi Sono Un Sogno," two instrumental tracks that once again demonstrate the originality of the record, with the musicians involved here playing with mixing two worlds light years apart like jazz and techno managing to ensure an always and in any case original but never excessive result.
Ultimately a surprisingly surprising album. If you have missed it, make up for it immediately: the album is available in all formats from LP to I-Tunes download all at a decidedly appetizing price that will hardly exceed two euros, one more reason to purchase it: you won't regret it.
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