Preface by Paolo Conte
Fifty years of being an artist need to be celebrated and honored.
Fifty years from the first time this great singer, great dancer and great actor appeared in front of an audience.
They’ve been fifty extremely colorful years, filled with bright oranges, fuchsia and turquois, and with no colors in between.
And fifty years of loneliness, like a lion who circles the pack by keeping his distance.
… three more steps and the beat world collapses…
With these words, I don’t think Adriano was trying to protect rock and roll, the music he had chosen in his youth, from the attacks of new music trends.
I think he was trying to protect something bigger and deeper which is connected to his own identity: the huge patchwork of ideas, styles and innovations he expresses through his records. Where else can you find the dancer who’s thirsty for words and beats and the singer who needs to be surrounded by the physical essence of music which is dance, and the actor who stamps on his own face Humphrey Bogart’s disenchanted and disgruntled handsome expression?
In the thick of this solitude there’s the overwhelming culture of the Arte Povera that makes him the most Italian of all foreigners, and the most foreign of all Italians.