Vasco Rossi
Nessun pericolo... per te

THE REVIEW

I admit with complete honesty: for me, Vasco died after this album.

Precisely, as you read above. "Nessun pericolo...per te" remains the last great album by the most celebrated and controversial Italian rockstar of all time. Genuine, angry, dark, irreverent, but above all honest. A sheen that Vasco has not been able to replicate in the same way, the cry of a man who now finds himself catapulted to the top of the world. Although success was enormous around him, from "Gli spari sopra" it was felt that Vasco had changed, especially in the track "Ci credi": no more life beyond the limit, nights marked by confusion and excesses, with the arrival of his son the artist finds himself wanting to put on the brakes and face the demons in his life with more determination, as an artist and a father in private life. What immediately catches the eye about the tracklist is the number of the following tracks: 10 songs, just like the old albums. Modest tracks alternating with some of the most shining in Vasco’s repertoire. The rhythm remains quite consistent, perfect in the first tracks, with some decline towards the end, but nothing disastrous if compared to some of his more current works ("Come nelle favole"... never heard anything more rotten after the terrible Radiohead cover). "Nessun pericolo...per te" is a rock album, through and through, and to create a respectable rock album, absolutely up-to-date and meticulous in every detail, Vasco presented himself with an army of musicians who need no introduction: Vinnie Colaiuta, Andrea Braido, Randy Jackson, Mike Landau and the inseparable Stef Burns.

The album opens with "Un gran bel film", an anthem to life and success by Vasco. The piece starts slow and then gradually explodes as it reaches the chorus. A song that always does well at the stadium, besides being a nice intro. "Benvenuto" opens with a darker soundscape, then accompanies a chorus in which Vasco introduces his son to the whole world, complete with church bells embracing the finale and bringing a glimmer of hope to the listener’s heart. The track is appreciable, with those dark and "full" sounds that will often return in his career, particularly in the album "Stupido Hotel", yet compared to what we will see later, it will turn out to be one of the less grand. Because before a masterpiece like "Gli angeli" one can only be moved: one of the most beautiful Italian songs of all time, dedicated to Maurizio Lolli, Vasco’s manager and friend, who died of lung cancer. The lyrics are heartrending, Vasco’s performance is one of the most inspired, up to Landau's final solo, a desperate and angry cry capable of truly making the listener fly; it's no coincidence that Roman Polanski took care of directing the video to capture the feelings that the track wanted to communicate.

The fourth track is yet another gem: "Mi si escludeva" opens with a production that resembles U2 during the "Achtung Baby" period, both from the initial guitar riff and the electronic sounds present in the drums, enriched with gospel choirs, though we are still talking about a raw rock track. Vasco speaks of a time when no one believed in him and his art, up to now when he can afford to keep critics and audiences at his feet. One of the best episodes. We return with another of Vasco's best love ballads (perhaps the best), namely that "Sally" who walks confidently down the street without thinking about anything. A sweet yet melancholic piano, splendid lyrics, a moving chorus. Also, in this track, the artist from Zocca delivers a respectful performance, although some slurring here and there may not be entirely intentional, a characteristic that Vasco has turned into a real trademark. Apart from this point, "Sally" remains a jewel of Italian music.

Immediately follow two of the angriest tracks of the work, namely "Praticamente perfetto", dedicated to those who think about appearances to the point of betraying friends, and "Le cose che non dici", based on trust: the first is a nice driving piece of typical '90s Italian-made rock, the second more bluesy and patient, with a guitar intro almost like an '80s detective film. Both are not exceptional, but interesting. And here we come to the title track, a piece that begins like a sensual dance around a bonfire, until the explosion of an energetic chorus on which the rest of the track will rely. The most ignorant episode of the album, in plain words the "sex-drugs-rock'n'roll" track, although there is also space for some uncomfortable barbs. The two episodes that close the album, "Io perderò" and "Marea" are appreciable, but they don’t add much to the beauty of the album: the first is a more pop track on which Vasco will base his entire career of the 2000s, which is why personally it doesn’t drive me crazy, while the second seems to wink at the Genesis of "Abacab" (the ones many hoped to forget), on a more moderate base but rich in synths, with a more angry finale once the guitars come in. Sufficient, I would have preferred a more gripping closure to tell the truth.

This is "Nessun pericolo...per te", one of Vasco's best albums of the last 20 years, thanks especially to a mighty quality of mixing, which makes it fresh and current even today. The rest that comes after you can safely do without. At your own risk and peril.