Warren Zevon
Excitable Boy

THE REVIEW

Warren Zevon, who was he. Indeed, one of the most representative songwriters of the American scene between the '70s and '80s, he always enjoyed minimal recognition in the USA, and almost none in the rest of the world, especially in Italy, where other musical genres were all the rage at the time and songwriters were only Italian (in fact, without detracting from the majesty of De André or De Gregori, there was a songwriter life outside the national borders, but no one seemed to notice). Zevon passed away in 2003, exhausted by lung cancer: the news wasn't even reported in the newspapers. Just to say. With 15 albums behind him and ending up in oblivion: life is strange.

In 1978, with his third album, completely unexpected, he writes and plays the greatest pop album (but calling it pop is reductive) of American music, appeasing both those who were already there and those who will come. "Excitable Boy," which lasts just 32 minutes, is a tout-court masterpiece that deserves credit not only to Zevon but also to Jackson Browne, at the helm as he was in the two previous works. It's an album that filters different styles, 9 tracks and 9 genres, depicting Los Angeles and the rest of the world with a grotesque, raw, and, above all, politically incorrect style (banishing all cliché) under the patronage of the politician, journalist, and U.S. writer, and great friend of Zevon, Hunter S. Thompson. A masterpiece that, today, in Italy is not even available, we're stuck with the vinyl of the time (the cassette tape era was skipped too) but it is easily found abroad (eh, Italy...).

The tracklist is phenomenal, practically a potential hit after another. It's impossible not to mention the "bouncy" "Werewolves of London," which is in fact his only chart hit and has lyrics so crazy, in a good way, that leaves one speechless (a rather old-style video was also shot for it). But the album is not just this, of course, Zevon's blender includes everything: the initial rock 'n' roll of "Johnny Strikes Up The Band" ("Jubilation in the Land," says the song, and who could argue); the outlaw western tale of "Veracruz" (which could easily be the soundtrack for an old '50s western); the reference to the Boss, at the time a young rock promise but already super-charting, in the title-track (with a scream-worthy sax); the folk of the surreal "Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner"; the spy-story of "Lawyers, Guns and Money" (which mentions Le Carré and Fleming, and literally makes you jump out of your seat); the funk disco of "Nightime in The Switching Yard," which had a decent chart success; the robust and compelling piano phrasing of "Tenderness On The Block" and, the cherry on top, the chilling melancholy of the ballad "Accidentally Like A Martyr."

An accomplished pianist, an excellent writer, Zevon at only 32 years old wrote a page of music history not just American. Which many, too many, have not (ever) read.