ROCK PROGRESSIVO ITALIANO

La Cruna del Lago from Tuscany formed in 2021 and consists of seasoned musicians Andrea Bruni, Matteo Tuci, Pino Polistina, and Carmelo Arena. These gentlemen have had a very successful launch of the band over the past few years since their debut album dropped. They have released some nice-looking deluxe yellow LPs along with CD/digital, been part of a prog DVD collection, and played to good-sized, enthusiastic crowds. Three of the band members had played with '70s RPI band Il Rovescio della Medaglia a few years back, so no doubt some good musical connections were made.

Their 2022 debut is another interesting entry blending a crisp modernity to the more traditional progressive rock tendencies. Their sound is often closest to "heavy prog" to my ear. I think they would appeal to fans of early '90s Rush or even Wilson's Insurgentes blending heaviness with atmospheric mood. Some of the most interesting diversions were the quieter, contemplative "electro/acoustic" moments that start with the third track "Illogica Distanza" and its lovely melody and harmony over acoustic guitar. "Interludio" is next and moves almost into a Battiato realm with environment effects, swirling, swelling, soft sounds---loved this. "Elettrodrama" is similarly experimental but with an accessible, almost Alan Parsons vibe. As usual, I have no idea what is happening lyrically, but Andrea wrote that the band has stated this is a "concept album dealing with the consequences of a declining society." Perfect timing then.

These guys have absolutely monster chops, their production is excellent, and the album's artwork is very cool. Those middle three songs are really good too, but I'm afraid I connected emotionally to only those middle three tracks. I was less convinced by the other half of the album, the heavier tracks, and thus this is a split decision for me. However, I think many progressive rock fans will likely dig the four heavier tracks as well. If that's the case, this album will knock your socks off.

I didn't read any other reviews so I may go and scan to see if others get slightly hung up on all the random changes although it isn't a big criticism. Over 40 odd years of listening and it is still a keeper if not going to challenge a 5 star rating. Just over a 4.25 and worth finding!

1. "Anima Animus" (8:40) syrupy symphonic Prog Lite schlock. (17.33333/20) 2. "Roots and Leaves" (5:40) something sophisticated and jazzy! I never expected anything like this--especially after hearing all of the album's other songs. Parts of it could almost come from a LAGARTIJA album or perhaps even a NOVICENTO album. (8.875/10) 3. "Cosmic Carnival" (6:59) a little creativity and life showing in this one. (13.25/15) 4. "De Rerum Natura" (9:03) opening with piano like something from a classic classical music piece or perhaps a Broadway musical. Joined by synths the piano then takes a different turn to exhibit a new motif which is joined by guitars, flutes, and the rest of the band. The piano part throughout sounds so much like a kid practicing scales--even through the rather rough edits and splices. I like this one most for its feel of being founded in classical music--though at times it's as annoying as a theme song from a long-running television show. (8.875/10) 5. "Lilith" (6:32) interesting late-1970s/1980s techno/New Wave music that reminds me of The Buggles and Claire Hammill's "Icicle Rain" from her all-voice-generated album, Voices from 1986. (8.6667/10) 6. "El Mundo Perdido" (6:44) a percussion opening that reminds me of MICKEY HART's world music creations facilitated through his Planet Drum albums. Yes, this is definitely more befitting a 1980s World Music smooth jazz album. I was into this music from about 1984 through 1990 and would have definitely purchased an album like this back then. Nice and melodic, but now too schlocky for me. (13/15) 7. "Secret Crime" (6:25) an opening that sounds like a classically-inspired pop-jazz song using both Satie, Minimalism, Mark Isham, and Laurie Anderson for examples. Surprisingly enjoyable even if it is rather schlocky (like something from a MANHATTAN TRANSFER album). (8.875/10) 8. "Moon and Cloud Dancing" (12:01) (syrupy symphonic Prog Lite schlock. The prog-by-numbers drum play is almost sickening. (21/25)

Total Time 62:04

B-/3.5 stars; a pleasant, nice-sounding album of fairly simple, often schlocky tunes that, to my mind, fails to live up to the hype it's been given.

It would be around 2008 that keyboardist Walter Pini would connect with a bass player and drummer to re-record three tracks that were used on those three "Divine Comedy" concept albums, one each. I don't have any of those but I do have the compilation album they released in 2010 which does. By the way the drummer helping out was Davide Guidoni from DAAL. Those three tracks are incredible and a continuation of the amazing music from their 1995 release "Il Passo Del Soldato".

And it was on that 2010 compilation record that we would be introduced to the new singer/guitarist Alex Camaiti who is featured here in 2025 and also with their "Return To The Castle" album from 2016. And while he sang in English on that one, he returns with Italian vocals here. The four piece lineup on this record was the same one on that "Return To The Castle" album. So yes these guys have been playing together for a while now. I have the cd version of this album which comes with a 16 minute bonus track called "Nautilus" which is as good as the main 36 minute plus title track.

The other cool thing about having the cd is that it opens up to reveal the two panel art work. So we see what one of the members is smiling at looking to his right. As in a castle which usually graces their art work. But also instruments that are all at the bottom of the ocean. This truly is the Walter Pini show. The only original member left, and the composer. I have to give props to the singer for his beautiful voice which is full of character. He doesn't add a ton of guitar but when he does it is often angular. The rhythm section has some chemistry and they form such an impressive bedrock of sounds throughout. The bassist is playing a Fender Jazz bass.

So one long 36 plus minute piece. I always write out what I'm hearing but this review is already long enough. I like how they add the splashing water sounds to open the album, but then they reprise those sounds several more times to tie this concept together. Walter blesses us with mellotron as well. But he mainly is ripping it up on the organ but adds plenty of piano and synths. There's something about those synths that I really like when they are leading. I like how this album ends with such a climax of sounds after 35 minutes.

Thankyou Mr. Pini for all the wonderful music, and I am so happy you are still making relevant music after all of these years. And for the rest of the band, you make me proud for building on the legacy of this great band. This is about as good as anything they had done previously except for maybe "Il Passo Del Soldato" but it's close enough, and also subjective.

Fast forward a quarter century and, while the band membership and the romantic piano based avenue remains cleared, if leafier and shadier, this might be their "Verita Nascoste", slightly more hard edged in parts and more accessible to those who may have never heard "The Musical Box", Lord help them. It's at its best early, peaking with "idrofilla", an upbeat almost folky number, and "Oltre l'uragano" ("Beyond the Hurricane"), more balladic but just as literary, abetted by Gabriele Benfatto's tender voice and Pierluigi Piccoli's keyboard base. "Altimo estremo" is heavier as these things go, with more rhythm guitar, spat vocals and ominous synths, but just as impactful.

From here, the impact diminishes, though only the chaotic "Fiume" really flops, even though one could argue it was worth the try. The remainder have their moments, particularly the bass atop the outro of "Tensione Superficiale", but it's clear the album was front loaded, and who could blame them? I'd rather have half a great album than wait another 20 years for a whole one, and "Fogli d'acqua sparsi" is not merely water under the bridge. Kudos and here's to a few more milk runs from these amiable characters.

The 1970s RPI movement had the occasional jester band that would hide behind pseudonyms or have no pictures or names. Other groups had tongue-in-cheek band histories that would prompt more questions than they answered, and sometimes myth and legend creeped in to fill in the blanks. Just a couple that come to mind would be Ballettirosadimacchia, Jacula/Antonius Rex, and Horus, but I know there are more. The latest would be Milan's Il Buco Del Baco. I'm not going into their fantastical yarn-spinning myself, but you are welcome to read Andrea's biography of them on their ProgArchives artist page if you want to start digging into their mysterious past. I will comment only on their recent recording Sotto il Segno della Lampreda, which may be homage to the great bands of the '70s RPI scene presented with all sincerity and heart.

I'm not going to pretend these guys have Banco/PFM/Area levels of chops because they don't, but you don't need to be king of the hill to make a compelling album. And I loved this deep bench RPI album with its contrast of the reserved with the splendored. First off, as it should be if you're trying to do homage to RPI, we have a short 32-minute album. Perfect running time. Less is more. This philosophy carries into the songwriting as well. The album has a sparseness to it that I find so appealing. It is not the wall-to-wall density and bombast so common on many prog titles. Instead the players let each other have space while what they are playing is relatively slow to the point of sounding a bit understated, ditto the vocals. It ends up finding its own quirkiness in sound style and reminds me of past albums like Bibbo's Diapason, MO.DO, Persimfans, or Apoteosi. The relatively lonely keyboard lines used to move things forward have a wonderfully uneasy sense of melody, feeling almost like the distant sound of a carnival ride across the fairgrounds. While it's supposed to be a happy sound, it ends up feeling a bit strange and off-putting. That's how this album makes me feel, and it is unique to find something quite like this.

Some may call this album a mirage or write it off as more of an oddity than a "real" prog rock title, but I find it to be a marvelous re-creation of some of the more obscure titles that were around in the mid-'70s. I think they achieved beautifully what they were trying to accomplish. There is a lot of to-the-fore bass lines, vintage keyboard sounds, flute, and perhaps less guitar than many rock titles. At times the vibe will shift from symphonic into psych trippiness, even occasionally getting close to avant-garde or light electronic before pulling back. And then suddenly, quickly as it started, it is over. The older I get, the more I appreciate an effort like this: brimming with creativity, surreal, and yet instead of trying to recreate the wheel or bash you over the head with volume, speed, or dazzle, they simply slow things down and paint with thoughtful, endearing brushstrokes while conjuring contemplation of our collective mystery of existence---or, in this case, pursuing affairs of the heart under the deep blue sea. I can see this album getting some low ratings for the same reasons I rate it highly. They have an approach that is not going to work for everyone, but that is more than okay. The people for whom the approach does connect---the dreamy set---are in for a treat.

Museo rosenbach plays progressive rock with clear roots in the classic Italian prog tradition. On Barbarica, influences from their debut album are evident, but with a more modern sound. The music shifts between lighter and heavier sections, creating a dynamic whole. In some parts, one can sense similarities to Banco del Mutuo Soccorso, although these elements are limited, by and large, it's the band's own sound that dominates.

The instrumentation is varied and well-balanced, with the guitar taking a slightly more prominent role than the keyboard. The guitars deliver both heavy riffs and melodic elements, while the keyboards contribute atmosphere and complexity. Flute and acoustic guitar also appear, broadening the soundscape. The production is of good quality, with a relatively well-balanced mix between the instruments. The sound quality is clear and crisp, allowing the nuances in the arrangements to shine through. The modern production values are combined with a sound that recalls the band's earlier work, preserving their characteristic style.

The vocals are strong and expressive, and the singer sounds as if he hasn't aged at all. His voice still carries a majestic quality that fits well within the progressive context. The singing is both melodic and powerful, serving as a natural part of the whole.

The songwriting is consistently high in quality, and within the context of Museo Rosenbach's discography, Barbarica stands as a worthy successor. It's an album that offers familiarity while clearly aiming to bridge the old with the new. Highlights include the powerful opening track and the quality of the vocals. Overall, it's a strong album, though if one were to critique something, it would be that the last two songs have unclear structures and occasionally lack a clear thread, but this is a minor issue. The album shows that the band still has much to offer, and they do it very well here.

Legend goes that I Giullari Di Corte (The Court Jesters) were born on a stormy night in distant 2002. After many years of inactivity, they came together again in 2017. What a revelation to hear this album released on the eve of the COVID years. For when the trippy opening subsides and "Nautilus" leaps from your speakers, it feels like you're experiencing some vintage RPI from the dawn of the '70s. While it may be symphonic prog, this is old school RPI of the gritty, slightly garage variety delivered by just three men, Alessio De Angelis, Matteo "Divac" Ballestrazzi, and Paolo Zacchi. This is not highly refined, "pretty" bench RPI with soft pillowy background, violin, and angelic harmonies. This is sweaty jamming with a hearty appreciation for hard rock along with the symphonic swirl.

When drawing parallels to who these guys reminded me of, my brain first flashed to Exploit's very rare Crisi album (where an original vinyl will cost you thousands if you believe Discog). Like Exploit, this is three-piece that thrives on an inventive and workmanlike approach to jamming to get where they're going, although Exploit used no guitar and these guys do. Other sound comparisons could be Capitolo 6 and Osage Tribe. I saw someone mention Le Orme, but I feel that is a more distant comparison. Not too many albums these days will eschew the myriad modern influences of the last few decades such as prog-metal and PT-type stuff, but the largely vintage instrumental Presi di Coscienza took me on a mind-trip to the fall of 1970, imagining a couple of barefoot teens sitting in an upstairs room cranking out the latest metamorphosis of rock, drifting into what we now call RPI. This is a unique and special album that frankly easily exceeds what Exploit did even if it falls a bit short of the Orme tag some give it.

I love the melancholic lilt in the many melodic adventures they undertake, so many beautiful piano/keyboard runs backed by fiercely belted-out bass lines and lively drumming. Vocals are used sparingly but effectively throughout. It is the large middle section of this album (from "Sherlock Holmes" through "Il Messicano") that shines the most, a truly excellent run of music. I found the second track and the last two tracks somewhat less convincing, but that's just me. I appreciated the symphonic/keyboard-led material more than the hard rock/guitar-led stuff. In any case, there is great potential here. The production could be criticized I suppose as there are times I feel the sound is too thin, and yet the compositional creativity and obvious passion for authenticity surpass all concerns about sound. This album brings the sauce, and we shall blast it down the halls of the villa. Really in the 7/10 range for me, but a whisker shy of getting to 4 stars. A second album is in the works, so keep your ears to the ground for that one.

Claudio Fucci was born circa 1952 in the town of Carosino near Taranto, later living in Milan. He started writings songs in the late 1960s, and by the '70s he was collaborating with the likes of Come Le Foglie and Banco. After the release of his own 1974 self-titled work produced by Eugenio Finardi, he would work with keyboardist Dario Piana again on the Le Mani project. But aside from a soundtrack project, it would be over 30 years before Fucci followed up his 1974 debut. The resulting Synkretiko is a country mile from anything resembling 21st century progressive rock, but it is a surprisingly warm and engaging return for Fucci nonetheless. This is not a progressive rock album even to the extent of his earlier work, but it is a good pop/rock album with a heavy dose of that wonderful Italian touch. It's very well decorated with two dozen great musicians including his old buddies, Eugenio Finardi and Dario Piana.

Synkretiko is an album for people who already know they like stuff like Battisti, Stephano Testa, Mario Barbaja, Gigi Pascal, or Gianni D'errico. The songs run the typical pop song template and length, but they are catchy, fun, and colorful. "Graffiti Italiani" is a festive opener with a bouncy folk feel adorned with fiddle. "Il Silenzio E Il Tuono" is another with a folky-country rock vibe that sounds great with Fucci's gregarious voice. "Sebastiano" is more bluesy with raucous electric guitar and organ that reminded me of Faces "Stay with Me." "Come Un Poeta" veers into a light and melodic jazz groove. And "Via C. Baroni" is a grand, romantic-sounding ballad. As you can see, the album's style is free and engaging, but the quality is very high. These songs will stick in your ears for days after. For such a late entry in the game, Fucci succeeds here. If this is to be his nightcap, it is sweet on the lips indeed. La musica della vita!

The Salis brothers, Antonio and Francesco, from Santa Giusta, Oristano (Sardinia), began their musical career in the early 1960s under the name Barrittas. They released several singles throughout that decade. With the help of their older cousin, Lucio, who produced them, they changed their name to Salis'n'Salis in 1969. By the time their first album was released, they were simply Salis.

Their debut, Sa vida ita est (1971), is a charming blend of 1960s-inspired pop and psychedelia, with subtle hints of progressive rock. It's a good album, but sadly it went unnoticed and didn't receive the attention it deserved.

By this time, the band had moved to northern Italy, near Cremona, in Lombardy. Their lineup also changed, with the addition of two musicians from Brescia: Pier Paderni and Paolo Gerardini. Both had played in JB Club, a group that once included Mauro Pagani. They replaced Mariano Tunerini and Nino Scalas, who had decided to return to Sardinia. This version of the band lasted until 1972. Briefly, in 1973, back in Sardinia, the lineup included bassist Pino Martini and drummer Salvatore Garau, who would later become the rhythm section of Stormy Six.

In 1974, a second album was released. This was more of a solo album by Antonio Salis than a complete band effort.

One of the first quadraphonic albums released in Italy, it was released on EMI's CiPiTi label and was later reissued by La Strega, a small label run by Lucio, who also wrote the lyrics for all of their songs. Musically, the album leans more toward pop/progressive than their debut and shares some similarities with another Sardinian band, Gruppo 2001. Antonio was accompanied by his brother Francesco, guitarist Gianni Serra, keyboardist Dario Baldan Bembo, and drummers Andy Suray and Furio Bozzetti.

Five years later, a new version of Salis returned with a revamped lineup and released Dopo il buio la luce, their third album. This is a completely different record: more focused, more progressive, and mostly instrumental. It's a keyboard-driven record that shows a completely different side of the band's potential.

The album is cleaner than the band's previous albums. The instruments flow and blend into a solid sound, guided by beautiful guitar and keyboard arpeggios. Dopo il buio la luce reminds me a bit of Arti e Mestieri and their 1974 album, Tilt, but with a more melancholic tone.

Dopo il buio la luce is another hidden gem of the great Italian progressive scene. Can you imagine? I've been listening to Italian progressive for almost 40 years and I'd never heard of this band. There are so many, and most of them are incredible. Nowadays, getting a physical copy of the album is almost impossible, but luckily there are digital versions so you can enjoy this wonderful record.