BANCO DEL MUTUO SOCCORSO: BANCO (1983)
1) Ninna Nanna; 2) Lontano Da;
3) Moby Dick; 4) Pioverà; 5) Allons Enfants; 6) Velocità; 7) Moyo Ukoje; 8)
Traccia III.
Stuck in between two of Banco's worst excuses
for existence, this eponymous release from 1983 is marginally better — at least
every once in a while it tends to veer into long forgotten «art-pop» territory,
with occasional baroque vocal flourishes and flashes of intellectualism: I
mean, how bad can an album with direct references to Herman Melville, the
French national anthem, and a phraseological expression in Swahili really be?
Well, it can be pretty bad, for sure, but not
entirely hopeless. Granted, the audacity even to suggest that there may be some feeble continuity with Banco's
classic legacy — as evidenced by the inclusion of a short bookmarking
instrumental called ʽTraccia IIIʼ — is hardly permissible, particularly in view
of the fact that the song in question is a bland piece of post-New Wave dance
muzak heavily struck with synthesizeritis. But if we bring ourselves to forget
that there ever was a ʽTraccia Iʼ or ʽTraccia IIʼ in the first place, Banco has its better moments.
ʽMoby Dickʼ, in particular, is a tolerable, at
times even jubilantly infectious, chunk of Euro-pop, laden with catchy
choruses, decent slide guitar and ʽDancing Queenʼ-ish piano patterns, maybe the
best track to stem from Banco's pop period in general — see, it isn't really that hard: all one needs is not sound
too stupid and include some instrumental work that does not value flashiness
and rhythm above subtlety and melodicity.
And make that a big emphasis on «not sounding too stupid» — throughout the album,
the attitudes and tonalities are significantly shifted towards a melancholic,
autumnal mood with a little bit of old-timey romantic idealism carried over
from the progressive days. If only the rhythmic pulses here weren't so utterly flat
and predictable, ʽNinna Nannaʼ could have been a passable jazz-rocker, and
ʽPioveràʼ could have been an okayish fusion ballad. There is even an attempt at
jumping on the «world music» wagon with ʽMoyo Ukojeʼ, even if its Swahili title
is more or less the only «world» element to it... still, it's a bit of an improvement
over ʽBacciami Alfredoʼ, if you know what I'm talking about.
It's not as if any of these observations constituted
sufficient reasons for the album to exist — it is quickly and easily
forgettable — but, at least, in the general context of the band's history it
comes across as a weak muscle convulsion from what already seemed like something
that «ceased to exist». One could even hope that, had things continued to
unfurl in the same way, Banco could
have been the beginning of a resuscitation. Unofrtunately, the Eighties were
only beginning — Genesis, too, released their best «pop-era» album in 1983, as
did Yes, and look what happened later. Could we expect anything radically
different from their Italian brethren? I don't think so.
It isn't truly the 80's until the Garden Gnome shaves.
ReplyDelete"synthesizeritis"
ReplyDeleteThis doesn't bother me most about the 80's. I am not sure if Pete Townshend made a better use of them (OK, on We won't get fooled again he did) and Jon Lord from Who do we think we are on certainly didn't.
"If only the rhythmic pulses here weren't so utterly flat and predictable"
This is my main problem. Where have the old values gone? What happened to the standards set by (pick your favourite) Moon, Baker, Bonham, Paice, Palmer and/or Bruford? And what happened to the idea that the bass guitar is a fine (counter)melodic instrument? Like (again, pick your favourite) Entwistle, Bruce, Jones, Lake, Thain and/or Wetton showed?
Pardon me, I'm not going to check if this album suffers from these flaws indeed. There is only so much I can handle.