Vasco Rossi
Sono Innocente (2014)

I am getting ready to write this review while listening for the sixth time to an album that has remarkably changed my opinion about Vasco Rossi and his career: the album in question is Sono Innocente, just released this past November 4th, which, in my honest opinion, is one of his most successful albums ever since last year around this time he made the decision to detox in a specialized clinic due to his well-known problems with alcohol and drugs. He then reappeared in great shape during the 7 dates (4 at San Siro and 3 at the Olympic Stadium in Rome, one of which I was incredibly fortunate to attend) of his famous Live.Kom014 at the end of June/early July.

The album itself draws inspiration from that hugely successful series of concerts at the end of June/early July, where the Rocker from Zocca (or the Komandante, for his most devoted fans) finally decides to set aside the decidedly “soft” sound of recent years to focus all his energies on a rather avant-garde product that successfully alternates Blasco's poetic-songwriter streak with sounds strongly leaning towards Hard Rock and the sphere of American Metal, as we will see shortly, thanks also and above all to his usual lineup embellished by the presence of young guitarist/composer/producer Vince Pastano, who is indeed the true mastermind of this successful album.

It is, in fact, Pastano's hard initial riff that kickstarts Sono Innocente Ma…, a song with a powerful and incisive tone, characterized by the equally overwhelming moog solo by the historic "Maremma wolf" Alberto Rocchetti and by lyrics that essentially represent an autobiographical snapshot of Vasco with an invitation never to give up despite the difficulties: “Shoot me again / so we’ll see who falls, who loses, who steals / and who smiles and who has tough skin / let's try it out / let's see how you play it / if you live between two fires / if you fall like a fool / or if you stand like Rocky.” The same line is followed by the subsequent Duro Incontro, a self-ironic depiction of the singer-songwriter's semi-bald head, once again dominated by Vince's riffs and solos that resonate like thunderous whiplashes towards the listener, who now seemed resigned to endure yet another "reheated broth," made of the usual mix (not even that successful, to tell the truth) between Pop and Rock. The track that best captures this vein tremendously close to the demands of top-tier American Rock/Metal bands, like Metallica, Pantera, and Black Label Society to name a few, is certainly Lo Vedi, whose central solo by the extraordinary Pastano seems, when listened to carefully with eyes closed, to recall any vintage Dimebag Darrell or Kirk Hammett!

However, the album also reserves ample space for "Vasco-made" pieces, like the beautiful Come Vorrei, an impeccable piece with marked pop/rock sounds in which a reflective and pained Vasco once again reflects on his life spent amidst dreadful ups and downs: “Unlike you / I don't know / if it's right like this / whatever it is / I don't move / I stay here / it would be much simpler for me / to leave / but looking at myself in the face / I should lie to myself / How I wish / it were possible / to change the world that exists / but I forget that / I should live without you.”

This “imprinting” is also found in the equally beautiful and reflective Guai, written with the historical friend/collaborator of Vasco, the leader of Stadio (and collaborator also for another star of the Italian Rock firmament, Lucio Dalla) Gaetano Curreri: “Troubles / you must never say it / that now you don't know / if you will love me all your life [...] / You don't fool me / I’m not interested whether / you can't tell me what time you cry / if you're / with me / get it out of your head / you can't rid yourself of me / if you're not as happy as you used to / you can't blame / it on me.”

Aspettami is another excellent "Vasco-made" piece that stands out for a structure not unlike American pop/rock. Another very significant song from the Vasco-Curreri duo is Quante Volte, characterized by another nice moog solo mid-piece and, above all, by lyrics that once again reveal an autobiographical snapshot of Blasco: “How many things have changed in life / how many times are always like this / how many times have I thought it’s over / then I woke up on a Monday [...] / I don't want to live just to keep company / I don't want to laugh anymore / I don't have fun anymore and it's my fault / I don't want to believe / that tomorrow will be / it will be different and then / who knows.”

Considerable space is also reserved for “unpublished” (but not too much) pieces with a distinct Blues attitude: an example is Dannate Nuvole, dominated by a philosophical breath (“When I walk on these / Damned Clouds / I see things that escape / from my mind / nothing lasts, nothing lasts / and you know this / but / you never get used to it.”) and a well-crafted solo by the returning Stef Burns, Vasco's historic guitarist since Gli Spari Sopra in 1993 (formerly with Alice Cooper, among others). Il Blues Della Chitarra Sola catapults us for about 3 minutes into the enchanted Rock/Blues world of the '70s, thanks also to the perfect interaction between an excellent horn section, Pastano's slide guitar, and the always "hot" central solo by Burns, which in some phrases here seems reminiscent of guitarists of the calibre of Eric Clapton and Carlos Santana. Cambia-Menti is another piece characterized by another excellent Burns solo and verses highlighting, with a certain ironic accent, the need for change, which must first of all occur within ourselves: “Changing car is very easy / changing woman is a bit more difficult / changing life is almost impossible / changing all habits / eliminating the less useful / and changing direction.”

The album concludes with the pure explosiveness of the instrumental Rock Star, an authentic terra-air missile shot at supersonic speed that projects us into harder and (deliberately) raw Rock/Metal, thanks to moog and keyboard riffs from another time, against which the powerful solos of Pastano and Burns are silhouetted, seemingly engaging in a real "assault on the diligence" made of technique and power at the same time.

The final side is reserved for three “bonus tracks”: L’Uomo Più Semplice (Reloaded) here in a sparkling version with the usual Stef Burns guitars in the foreground; L’Ape Regina, a cheerful ballad with seemingly banal lyrics that, however, reveal the rather "libertine" nature of certain women/girls devoid of any value in their lives, and finally, Marta Piange Ancora, a fun song that, in the manner of any Rino Gaetano, ironizes about a girl named Marta who has just been left by a boy (also quite devoid of values) and who vents her disappointment and anger with sensational gestures, sarcastically painted by Blasco (but not too much, to be honest).

This work, which I appreciated greatly from the very first listen, is thus tangible proof of the “turn” announced and here fully realized by the national Vasco and his sound, after the last records that I honestly consider rather disappointing or at least inconsistent, and I am convinced that at the next concerts planned for next year, he will amaze us once again as he has always done throughout his nearly 40-year career so far.