Preface by Alda Merini
I’ve listened so many times to Celentano’s latest album that I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown,
One of the reasons I did this was to exorcise some of my personal fears.
It’s as if I plugged into my brain a cord that hadn’t been used for a while. Because I needed to obliterate the crime of indifference.
It’s about today and maybe tomorrow’s society. But what surprises me the most is Celentano’s power of placing the outrage for this crime in HIS own indifference and turning it into music.
It’s as if Adriano is dancing on the tiles of his fear in a extremely small space.
He’s so flexible that he can change not only by following his memories but also by going with the pain of his memories.
A body is a prison. The invigoration of the opponent is a slap across the untarnished child’s face, the face of the poet child.
When they removed my roof and I was caked with rubble dust, the pain not only made me sick but it also took away the space I needed to be inspired.
Humanity’s strength resides in the memory. Human beings tire and sweat to maintain their memories intact. He/she loves them, protects them as living creatures and won’t let them be strangled by the landlord’s dried-up hands. Or by a misleading defender of social rights.
Adriano is like a male Venus who’s rising from the shattering earth shards and is demanding revenge.
He sings and chants for the resurrection of the bodies and of the minds.
Behind him there’s a Greek Chorus of Women Mourners who are invoking the endless funeral of humankind’s ideas and freedoms.
In the beginning, mankind was afraid of fire, of matter, of the light. But then tried to befriend these elements that could have killed him. It’s like a house on stilts, which protects us from the hungry beasts. And Celentano’s world of music is swarming with these beasts: he smiles at them and tames them.
He’s like Saint Francis who heads straight for the wolf and manages to make the monsters laugh. And that’s mankind’s biggest power.
When I was in the mental asylum and felt desperately overwhelmed, I would start laughing and make the other scared patients laugh. That’s what saved me.
Adrian’s religiosity is a pantheistic form of the original artist’s lust and passion that the mediocre and the joy killers love to criticize.
Adriano reassesses mankind’s need to have only one boss: the Creator of the Universe.
If we can’t stop loving those who eventually will kill us, it’s because we harbor an engrained cult of death. They turn into an ALTER EGO we embrace because the joy of the resurrection is an important part of death.
This pamphlet is basically a revenge on those men who want to kill culture by making it wealthy.
The world would end without the poets and the song jesters who pray God and bend over in pain.
Adriano’s beat is the beat of the blood. Quoting the writer Susanna Tamaro: Adriano goes where his heart leads him and where we all will go to die a peaceful death. Maybe ending up in a common grave where we’ll continue to chant for Divine Piety.