Zucchero
Fly

THE REVIEW

We were waiting for it. Almost five years since “Shake” (amidst various delays) were more than enough to instill curiosity and arouse certain expectations. We know the story, having told it many times: he's talented, he's done great things, but it's been a while since he amazed. Will he be able to redeem himself this time, or will we have to resign ourselves to considering him an artist sacrificed on the altar of commercialism? “How can we fly with eagles if we are surrounded by turkeys…” is the subtitle of “Fly”, which contains 11 unreleased tracks. Who are the turkeys? The arrogant ones, those who sow conflict, who overpower others, trampling on them and ignoring their reasons. A mirror of today's world, in short, from which Sugar distances himself, creating a personal niche and trying to sprinkle the album with 60s atmospheres: the best, according to him. 
This is a more reflective, twilight, September-like Zucchero: “Fly” has the sweet taste of maturity, perhaps finally reached. Sugar "pumps" less in this album by a fifty-year-old: the voice is more breathless, even the falsetto—which he often uses when the occasion allows—is not what it used to be, it's more rusty; a sense of calm pervades various parts of the soulman's last work from Roncocesi.  Texts stripped bare, reduced to the essential, if not even more: there are no "discourses," at most suggestions, hints, leaving all doors open, and the margin of interpretation perhaps becomes even too broad. Indeed, it's difficult to pinpoint a well-defined "plot" for each song: the use of such choppy sentences full of evocations recalls the style of the old Adelmo. And to recover his primal nature, Sugar makes a precise sonic choice: distancing himself from electronics and favoring the intimate expressiveness of the acoustic guitar and the vintage references of the Hammond organ (an intelligent rediscovery), without forgetting the bass and a wise use of percussion.

It starts with “Bacco perbacco”, which the radio has been broadcasting for some time, chosen by Sugar as the album's driving piece: double entendres about wine and sex (those really never lack!) dot a well-paced song that fatally entices to dance, charged as it is with audacious, fiery sensuality (like the related video clip, which shows a crowd of wild, jubilant youngsters, with Sugar in the center, slyly singing and guitarring). An apology of carefreeness and fun (“Bacco perbacco ecco cos’è vi-ve-re”), it's a goliardic and lighthearted song, not to be taken "seriously". Next comes the rockish “Un kilo”, also very suitable for dance halls and a promiscuous approach. With the third track, “Occhi”, the route decidedly changes: a sweet and melancholic ballad (“quando scende la tristezza in fondo al cuore”), it is, in my opinion, the most beautiful song on the album (competing with “E’ delicato”). The soul soars towards the sky, carried by the wind, detaching from daily cares, “flying away”, as the refrain indeed goes. The track closes with a very tender and intimate ending, with a clear Battisti flavor.

Then comes “Quanti anni ho”, another ballad, particularly felt by Adelmo because it's dedicated to his son Blue (“ho bisogno di te, di svegliarmi nel sole, da quanto tempo hai il mio cuore”): we find the most ineffable feelings, expressions of a love that transcends space and time, crystallized in a sound that tastes ancient and deep. It continues with “Cuba libre”, dedicated to a country Sugar professes to be in love with: here too we have a danceable piece (perhaps with a nice Cuban...), while the text pays tribute to mannerism transgression, in addition to being a bit coarser than usual (“mi piace la lasagna e poi mi piaci tu un po’ di marijuana sotto il cielo blu”; “hasta l’asta siempre”): maybe the reference to lasagna (also misunderstood: we learn from the chronicle that in Spain Zucchero's record company, suspecting an unwelcome double entendre, gave up on launching this song as the first single: for once when our guy did not intend to be allusive!) could have been avoided. After the homage to Castro, we have “E’ delicato”, written in collaboration with Ivano Fossati, full of meaningful connotations, pervaded by invocation and hope (“mio sole rispondi”…“tu lo sai che non è la fine…io non mi stanco no, no e vengo a cercarti”) “L’amore è nell’aria” is another "calm" song, expressing serenity and awareness (in an interview, Sugar stated that he conceived it while napping at the foot of a tree, in his "Lunisiana"), while the melody doesn't seem particularly successful to me: overall, in fact, I judge it one of the most impersonal performances on “Fly”.

“Pronto” is a phone call to himself, where Sugar finds himself misanthropic (“c’ho paura degli americani e degli inglesi e degli italiani dei musulmani e anche dei cristiani”), disenchanted and pessimistic about the destiny of a society that seems less and less belonging to him (“ma guarda il mondo stronzo e guarda il suo tramonto che fine fa?”). The funky rhythm is good. “Let it shine” is a heartfelt memory of New Orleans, overwhelmed by Katrina, which destroyed (besides immensely more important things) even Zucchero's memories, as it also buried places where the artist had recorded some works. The choir gives the song a dark, painful, and distressing soul imprint, dragging the listener towards the desolate misery of a devastated population, stripped of memory and the present. Left to comment on are “Troppa fedeltà”, set to music by Adelmo, written by Jovanotti, then revised and corrected by Adelmo himself, and finally “E di grazia plena”, a secular prayer (“mio profumo di sesso e mela”) with Sugar at the piano: not a masterpiece, in my opinion.

It's time for assessments and judgments: expectations—we have said—could well be high, after so long; Zucchero knew this too, who at first sensed the difficulty of offering something new to his fans (“non sapevo più dov’ero”, he admitted); then he tried to find the course, looking at the bright years of “Oro, incenso e birra” and, encouraged by a patient Don Was, he also ventured with instruments unusual for him, in an attempt to forge a profoundly "his" product, imbued with sugarian values and reflecting his worldview. So, recovery of the past and experimentation, in Adelmo's intent. Actually, I believe the goal was not fully achieved: the added value that undoubtedly is to be recognized in this work, namely the "maturity" that inspires and permeates it, does not always seem sufficient to compensate for the not so excellent quality of some pieces. The intentions remained partly unexpressed, the album globally struggles to find its identity, suspended as it is between the glories of the past and the normality of the present, a present from which this work in more than one way detaches itself, as mentioned, but without being able to clearly indicate an alternative path to follow. Sure, there are also the highlights here, which make “Fly” worth listening to. Nonetheless, in the end, there's a trace of dissatisfaction left, because the "turning point" that perhaps someone was still expecting has not arrived, nor does it seem that the foundations have been laid for a fruitful change of direction. What a pity.