THE BIRTH – The Niro

The title already says a lot about this fifth unreleased album of mine.

The first three I had sung in English; the fourth and fifth in Italian.

This album is free from any pattern; in fact, there are songs in English and in Italian. However, this does not mean that I did not choose with total awareness the songs that became part of the album.

Each song is a snapshot of a moment I have experienced, almost always in the first person.

Everything has revolved around the song The Birth, a journey into the past until I find my error-free existence. It is a song that always moves me, both when I listen to it and when I sing it live; it touches inner chords that leave me with no escape.

It is the album’s overture, and is followed by No Regrets, which tells of my perpetual need to know the world. In the search for something new I sometimes choose wrong paths; I have always preferred it to standing still.

So Odd, in Italian “So Odd” is about how inadequate I sometimes feel in facing difficulties, but it is also a self-invitation not to get stuck in melancholy, in the past. We always get back up, one way or another.

Bergman photographs the absence of empathy that I have increasingly found around me lately. It is a bit of a mirror of these dark times. Sometimes I’ve felt that way myself: capable of hurting others without realizing it; that’s why I haven’t shied away from singing it myself.

My Desires is the consequence of this realization; loneliness as a choice not to make those next to me suffer. An isolation that has served me, even in making this album.

First, however, there is Tarantula: it is the only song I wrote moved by the feeling of anger; that is why it is the song I least want to talk about. After the first half, the song changes language from Italian to English, and the roles of victim and perpetrator are reversed; this is because I strongly desired to reverse those roles, even though I then simply broke the wheel.

Subtracting oneself from toxicity is the only way to be reborn.

I have a dream is about the dream of reviving ideals of beauty and brotherhood among men. The title recalls Martin Luther King; the song is inspired by his life.

I wrote Borderline inspired by some figures who pass through our lives as stubborn extras. They roam everywhere, in private life as in the palaces of power, in the family as in the news. Stable figures in the art of denying the evidence, of lying without feeling the weight of it. Immune to doubt, to guilt, to the slightest inner crack. To them, I wanted to dedicate an anti-hymn. A small trophy of honor to the absence of shame. And so Borderline sounds like light laughter among the rubble. A refrain to be whistled as the world, with no more embarrassment, turns away.

Amsterdam. During a trip to the Dutch city I came across a powerful scene: a woman, in one of the red-light windows used by sex workers to receive clients, had enchanted tourists by performing a pole-dancing performance. The memory of that experience came alive years later in my mind; so did the music.

Ulysses Is closely related to The Birth. Where is the safe haven in which to rest from life’s difficulties? I don’t know yet, but I would love to find it.

Rainy Days is the conclusion of this album: I dream of such beautiful sunny days where I can of sunshine to live outside. And like a sailor the wind will blow on my chest.

The album was made at home, in solitude. I played every note on this record; it was a journey full of pain and beauty. Like life.

I am very proud of it, and I hope it can break through to your hearts.