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1-100       Compilations

HH from the Italian Diaspora

Almamegretta — Sciuoglie 'e Cane (2004)

Sciuoglie 'e Cane (2004)

1.Preta d'oro

2. O mare che puorte 'ncuorpo

3. Nowhere home

4. Sulo cu tte

5. Lo stesso vento

6. l nino y la pelota

7. Polvere

8.Nun s'ave idea

8. Cinque dita

10. Murderer's blue

11. Sciuoglie 'e cane

12. Verào

13. The neverland

14.Stella

 

Review
By George De Stefano

Imaginaria, the 2001 release by Almamegretta, those Neapolitan mix-masters of diverse sounds and cultural influences, found the band returning to its roots in reggae and dub, but with greater consistency in the songwriting and performances than ever before. The band more than recovered from the misstep that was 4/4 (1999) and the mixed bag that was Lingo (1998). Besides consolidating their strengths, Imaginaria seemed to presage a new direction for gli Alma, founded in the early 90s by reggae- and rap-loving habitués of Officina 99, a centro sociale (social center) in Napoli.

But Imaginaria, instead of pointing to the future, turned out to be the end of an era. Almamegretta subsequently released Venite Venite, a collection of live tracks recorded at various shows in Italy from 1995 to 2001. (Of the CD's two new studio tracks, "Uno" was as nondescript as its title; "Due," a moody pop ballad, would've fit comfortably on Lingo.) And then, in 2003, came the news that charismatic lead vocalist, spokesman, and sex symbol Gennaro della Volpe — aka Rino, Reeno, then Raiss, now Raiz — was leaving to pursue a solo career.

The music megacorporation BMG dropped the band from its roster around the same time. In a January 2004 Corriere della Sera interview, sound programmer and keyboardist Stefano "D.RaD" put the best possible face on the loss of their label and its high-powered distribution and promotion. He said that the relationship with BMG had never been comfortable, and that the band now has more artistic freedom and fewer corporate constraints. Maybe so. But I can't help wondering whether an Almamegretta senza the magnetic Raiz just didn't thrill the BMG honchos.

Faced with either breaking up or continuing with a new lineup, Almamegretta took the latter option, recruiting longtime compadre Lucariello as lead vocalist, with Patrizia Di Fiore, a member of an early incarnation of the band, as second voice. A couple of former members, bassist/trombonist Mario Formisano and guitarist Gianni Mantice, returned to the fold.

The news that gli Alma, now led by D.RaD and drummer Gennaro Tesone, would continue without Raiz did not sit well with many fans, who reacted with the venomous outrage peculiar to hardcore fans who feel betrayed by a favorite band or artist, like the folkies who freaked when Dylan went electric. Tesone posted a defiant response at the group's website to "i vari incazzati, delusi, ecc" (those who are pissed off, disappointed, etc.) in which he defended the legitimacy of a Raiz-less Almamegretta. Tesone said that the band never had been just Raiz and his sidemen, so why shouldn't the "bellissima esperienza" continue, in a different form?

Almamegretta, he declared, was "a collective open to new collaborations and not a band with a 'closed' line-up." Playing on the group's name, Tesone wrote that if Almamegretta were not a mutable entity, what kind of "wandering souls" would they be?

He and the other members were ready to be judged by their audience on the basis of their music, but he was not going to accept "poisonous insults" from fans who hadn't even heard the new band.

So, eccolo qua, the first release by the reborn Almamegretta, on their own Sanacore label, distributed by the Italian company SELF Distribuzione. "Sciuoglie 'e cane" means "unleash the dogs," which, besides being the CD's eponymous track, pretty well conveys the sense of a bunch of singers and musicians let loose to pursue their creative impulses, whatever the genre.

The results mostly confirm the wisdom of the band's decision to keep going without Sr. Della Volpe. As rich and layered as a Neapolitan lasagna di carnevale, the disk is built on a solid reggae/dub foundation. As on Imaginaria, tracks that aren't actually reggae or dub use the Jamaican "one-drop" rhythm, with the band's superb drummer Gianni Tesone laying varied beats and accents over the underlying pulse. With the return of Mario Formisano, the band now has a regular bassist for him to work with, and the two constitute one killer rhythm section. The other welcome new element is Gianni Mantice's slithery slide guitar obbligatos and rock 'n rolla riffs.

So what about the new guy, this Lucariello, who got the difficult gig of replacing the formidable and beloved Raiz? Let me say that I consider his predecessor one of the most distinctive and compelling voices in contemporary pop. Not only that: Raiz, articulate and with a striking physical presence, was the focal point of the band, the cynosure of its identity.

But Lucariello's voice, less grainy than Raiz's, carries comparable passion and energy. His a capella intro to the CD's first track, "Preta d'oro" is thrilling, and as he switches from singing to rapping, it's obvious he's no slouch, not by a long shot. He's even more impressive on the next tune, "'O Mare che puorte 'ncorpo," his fluid phrasing a perfect fit with the reggae "riddims." On the Massive Attack clone "Nowhere Home," singing in English, he seems to have another voice, a pinched, nasal tenor that sounds remarkably like Horace Andy, a Jamaican who has recorded with the Bristol boys.

And as a rapper he actually outdoes Raiz's, which is a good thing since there's more rap on Sciuoglie than on any Almamegretta disk since their debut, Animamigrante. On a couple of tracks his rapping leads the band into 99 Posse territory, not a bad thing in my book. The man's got flow all right, but he also imbues his raps with drama and pathos. On "Cinque Dita," he spits the rage and frustration of a poor, 16-year old napoletano in a flood of words interrupted by the chorus, which wonders, "Maybe here it begins, the desire of a kid to become a criminal." Check the way the band works the chorus, first sung mournfully by Lucariello and Di Fiore, then rapped by the two vocalists, alternating between sorrow and anger. It's a stark, powerful piece, and one of the CD's highlights.

If anything, Lucariello is underutilized on "Sciuoglie," singing lead on only half of the 14 tracks. And herein lies the main problem with the CD — too many other vocalists. Patrizia Di Fiore gets two tracks, the Dido-ish "Polvere" and "Stella," a dub reggae lullaby that's more likely to get the bambini "easy skankin'" in their cribs than put them to sleep. Francesco di Bella of the Neapolitan band 24 Grana shines on the mid-tempo rocker "Solu cu tte."

But even when the guests play well with the band, the presence of so many different voices — and musical genres — tends to diffuse the group's identity such that the CD has the aura of Almamegretta con amici instead of a cohesive ensemble. Pace Gianni Tesone, but sometimes a collective can be too open. Had the band cut some of the weaker tracks, especially the two lightweight contributions of guest singer-keyboardist Marco Parente, they would have had a stronger, more focused recording.

Still, Sciuoglie 'e Cane is far more satisfying than many longtime Almamegretta followers expected, and the start of a promising new chapter in the history of a unique and essential band.


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