Anni di piombo, anni di paillettes.

Music from a country on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

[music:] Enzo Delre, Il banditore (1974)

with 10 comments

A revolutionary avant-folk storyteller, an arte povera experimental performer, an “oggettista corpofonista” (“objectist bodyphonist”) as he defines himself, Enzo Del Re or Delre – as spelled on this album’s cover – born in 1944 in Mola di Bari, Apulia, South-East of Italy, has been one of the few italian artists, together with Francesco Currà, to apply to music, maybe unknowingly, the well-known Jean-Luc Godard’s plea: “it’s not about making political films, but rather making films politically” (I’m quoting by heart).

A restive anarchist, soon after graduating at the local conservatory he abandoned the academy to pursue a personal and unique musical language caught between roots and modernity, coherence and contradiction, folk singleness and cultured experimentalism, joined in his research by the ethnomusicologist Antonio Infantino; as a proletarian musician who merely had at his disposal his own sheer working force, his hands, his arms, his legs, Del Re chose to play only significant found objects and recycled materials, used as percussion instruments – mostly chairs, as a nonverbal and sorrowful protest against electrocution and death penalty in general, or a suitcase, as in Vittorio Franceschi’s Qui tutto bene… e così spero di te (“things are fine here… and so i hope with you”, 1971), a theatrical play about “emigration and imperialism” – and clicking his tongue and beating his own body and face. A radical, marginal sound worker, who in the Seventies used to take three shifts a day, playing two gigs for free at occupied factories, schools, universities, and getting for the last one a metal worker’s daily minimum wage. The same continuous and monotonous rythm he used as sole accompaniment to his songs seemed produced by a clapped out assembly line.

Il banditore (“the town crier”) – released in 1974 after his experiences with Dario Fo’s theatrical company Nuova scena (“new stage”) and at the legendary Derby Club in Milan with Enzo Jannacci, and following his 1973 debut album Maul (“Mola” in local dialect) – is a full and detailed report about the work of this postindustrial agit-prop cantastorie who tirelessly travelled all over the country, spreading his word and critically supporting the revolutionary movement.

The record testified his immutable and hieratic style, seemingly coming from an ancient past or from a far future, inducing a sort of ecstatic experience by iterativity; an uninterrupted stream which made live together tarantella with musique concrète, The Last Poets with his hometown fishermen’s screaming (even if Enzo’s voice tone and the way he offers lyrics remind insistently of Luigi Tenco). However, there are moments which stand out of the flow, as the title track with its comics’ onomatopoeias and the siren in the end, between an anti-aircraft alarm and a factory hooter; the ritual latin mixed with real and fake advertising claims of “Laudet et benedicitet (Infantino)”; the ironic thirdworldist namedropping of “Comico”: hints of a sadly unaccomplished mediterranean cannibalism – in the sense of the Manifesto Antropófago by Oswald de Andrade, which inspired the Tropicália movement. And, of course, the dazzling dyptich of “Lavorare con lentezza” and “Tengo ‘na voglia e fa niente”, written in an hotel room in Bologna, which represents one of the most revolutionary anti-work statements ever.

Here is the tracklist:

01, Il banditore (“the town crier”)
02, Lavorare con lentezza (“working slowly”)
03, Tengo ‘na voglia e fa niente (“i feel like doin’ nuthin'”)
04, Laudet et benedicitet (Infantino)
05, La fretta (“the hurry”)
06, La sopravvivenza (“the survival”)
07, Il superuomo (“the superman”)
08, Voglio fare il boia (“i wanna be a hangman”)
09, Scimpanzè (“chimpanzee”)
10, La 124 (“the 124”, referring to a FIAT car model)
11, Comico (“funny”)
12, La rivoluzione (“the revolution”)

Get it: Enzo Delre, Il banditore (1974)

Unbeknown to him, “Lavorare con lentezza” was used as broadcasts’ opening and closing signature tune by Radio Alice, the movement’s pirate radio in Bologna, from 1976 until March 12th, 1977, the day after the killing of the student Francesco Lorusso by a carabiniere during a streetfight, when the police burst in the studios and terminated transmissions.

In 2004, Guido Chiesa directed a movie about the story of Radio Alice, titled Lavorare con lentezza and featuring the song in its soundtrack. This led to a short-lived rediscovery of Del Re’s work, which anyway didn’t particularly affect his semi-retirement, as for the tribute that fellow musicians such as Eugenio Bennato, Daniele Sepe, and Etnoritmo paid him covering or sampling his songs.

He still plays concerts occasionally, where his self-produced tapes or cd-r’s are available to buy. You can happen to meet him around his hometown’s port, where he usually sits with old fishermen speaking, drinking, and playing cards.

Written by alteralter

February 8, 2009 at 2:25 pm

10 Responses

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  1. Non conoscevo questo disco e ai primi ascolti mi sembra straordinario. Grazie per il prezioso lavoro che stai facendo con questo blog.

    Renato Q.

    February 9, 2009 at 1:40 pm

  2. ciao renato. grazie a te e complimenti per il lavoro che state facendo come humpty dumpty. inutile dire che un contributo tuo e/o di alessandro come ospiti del blog, se ve ne dovesse pungere vaghezza, ci renderebbe felici.

    a presto, spero.

    alteralter

    February 9, 2009 at 2:41 pm

  3. grazie per la scopert:lavorare con lentezza e tengo na voglie e fa niente sono immediatamente dei classici che potrebbero tranquillamente rimpiazzare l’ inno di mameli

    papagianni

    March 25, 2009 at 11:14 am

  4. in effetti non sarebbe male vedere le forze armate sull’attenti o buffon e compagni che le cantano a squarciagola prima di una finale…

    alteralter

    March 25, 2009 at 11:24 am

  5. Grazie mille per il download. Finora conoscevo solo Lavorare con lentezza e qualche brano di Nuova scena, per esempio Povera gente.

    Zio Bastone

    April 29, 2009 at 7:11 am

  6. This is the site I’ve been looking for for the last ten years. Wonderful stuff.

    maestromuro

    May 16, 2009 at 1:55 pm

    • welcome maestro. hope to hear from you soon.

      alteralter

      May 16, 2009 at 3:55 pm

  7. Ciao alteralter, sto sempre cercando il bellissimo ‘U Nav’gand’. Magari, non vivo in Italia, dunque non posso trovarlo. Is it available as a download anywhere?

    maestromuro

    May 16, 2009 at 4:11 pm

  8. mi dispiace maestro, but i haven’t got it… and i don’t think it’s available anywhere on the net.

    alteralter

    May 18, 2009 at 9:34 pm


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