Vinicio Capossela
Da solo

Ah finally Capossela!, ruler of another world, has crafted from his warm head of ventures and magic 12 pieces still steaming and smelling of goodness...
There was a need for an album like this, according to him an album as enveloping as a sweater, suitable for spending the winter for those who don't have anyone to warm up with... and that already was more than enough for me to eagerly anticipate Friday the 17th, the release of the album and its purchase as a superstitious gesture!
It's such a wonderfully winter album, to be listened to by a lit fireplace, curled up on the couch peeling chestnuts with a glass of wine (I recommend cabernet..) at hand. Wrapped in a blanket and by the piano, that along with countless "inconsistent instruments" will flood the room with warmth.

You can feel the warmth that Vinicio transmits, a warmth however coming from a single direction, a warmth that by some twist of fate comes from a room "emptied by a farewell".
And much, in my view, revolves around this, distilling phrases that delve into memory and in memory often resurfaces the feeling of calm nostalgia experienced when one is "orphaned now". Even "Sante Nicola" is invoked to bring us as a gift "the words to speak to each other and warm our hearts, how poor it is not to know how to speak to each other and seeing each other pass by close and mute shut in resentment". And the metaphor of the mismatched socks is beautiful where, after asking where the sock that "stubbornly pursued a patch" ended up or the one that "overused Napisan or Chloritine", it is asked "where did your love go, when itself got lost far from mine..." and they all end up in... "The paradise of socks".
And so we let ourselves be carried away by this music and these words, interrupted only by the crackling fireplace, whose smoke they've taken the scent from and continue, evoking the circus and magic, to talk of "illegality" to tell the difficulty of living according to one's nature, of desolate and deserted America, even of soldiers singing of war with the accompaniment of the enchanting sound of Mario Brunello's cello.

But searching through this poetic and intimate warmth, there is also time to whistle carefree in "A perfect day" where it is even said "We are not made to suffer, to leave if it's time to end, to trust life without fear...".

And in the end that's how it is, when you search through memories after mixing them with time, tears dry up and everything simplifies, falling asleep peacefully in memory... sometimes...