PICCHIO DAL POZZO

A band divergent from their homeland scene in 1976, Picchio dal Pozzo seemed more at home with the roomy sounds of American jazz and the space it provided to develop spontaneously, and less with the formalities of the cherubic Italian prog canon. Consequently this debut claims its own territory, separate even from the Canterburian identity they're given, a record more in common with Zappa's exploratory surgery or Pink Floyd's sound-striding than any grand operas.

Guitarist Paolo Griguolo's overdubbed nylon arpeggios are soon joined by the synths of Aldo de Scozi for 'Merta' [a cut also featured on Cherry Red's indispensable compilation Prog is Not a Four-Letter Word], graduating into 'Cocomelastico', its clashing horns, dreamy Fender piano and the sounds of an Italian family starting the day. Downright space age is 10-minute 'Seppia' with more sickly brass as it moves into a mean groove led by Andrea Beccari's heavy bottom and the sting of Griguolo's fuzztone, all backed with a playful xylophone [by guest Ciro Perrino], a young man's cantori and the band's Yes-like chorale. The carnivals of 'Napier' disintegrate into an astral trip with touches of Herbie Hancock, several flutes, and distinct English pastorals in 'La Floricoltura di Tschincinnata' ending with an Italian argument of epic proportions. Erik Satie's softness is imbued for 'La Bolla', finishing with the jazz vocalizations of 'Off'.

An unexpected and welcome fork in the Italian prog road, and an album less likely to scare away newcomers to what Italy was offering in the mid-1970s. Recommended.