While I would much rather talk about Le Orme, the movement’s appointed social commentators, who put out a number of indisputable classics in the early ’70s, yet it is especially vital to dwell here on PFM – i.e. Premiata Forneria Marconi, or ‘Marconi’s Prize-Winning Bakery’ – in other words the most prestigious Itaprog act of all. PFM may yet beat out Le Orme for most Itaprog record sales, and I suppose that matters in the sense that both bands concentrated on deriving musical quality from artistic sensitivity, and both succeeded with the public, showing themselves capable of walking the dog instead of vice versa, as it were. It is also relevant that with PFM, we’re in a position to identify one record particularly deserving of attention in terms of its classic proportions, making our task of commentary relatively simple. That is not the case with Le Orme, where there are at least three classics for the reviewer to choose from, each with its peculiarities – not that the term ‘classic’ should necessarily be withheld from any other PFM disc. It is also true that this band was heard widely outside Italy – a virtually unique situation demanding comment – especially their ultra-progressive The World Became The World, but also Photos of Ghosts, which is nothing other than an English-language reworking of probably their finest Italian record, Per Un Amico (1972), currently under discussion and depicted above. So there appear to be several reasons for preferring a PFM review to a Le Orme review.

I don’t think it’s going to offend anyone if we dub 1973’s record Io sono Murple, by Murple, a classic. Probably not all that many have heard it anyway. The instruments are all very well played, always searching for a situation where they can rock out. In Antarctica, I guess this is actually a way of keeping warm. Perhaps for this reason, the music is continuous throughout. Usually we find the Italians seeking to impress the listener with excellence in technique and crafted collaboration among performers, and if it is possible to level a criticism, well, there is a tendency to forget about rocking out, as though they didn’t know how to do it, didn’t think it was a useful thing to do, or thought they were actually doing it anyway. So Murple is looking to make up for that, and they make sure they have a fine set of compositions, with plenty of contrast, carefully interwoven for continuity. The music is actually a fable concerning the penguin Murple. To judge from the section title, “Senza Un Perchè”, Murple is a philosopher penguin on a quest. You can also see from the cover that he is a leader of penguins, because he has a personality that moves before him.

The New Trolls were the most experimental Italian pop-rock band of the late 60s. They then contributed to the rise of Italian prog with their classical take-off, Concerto Grosso, of 1971. But their music was extraordinarily virile – often observably simpler and with far rougher edges than other bands – and it can sometimes be difficult to accept them as integral to the same prog wave as other apparently more refined bands, even if the Trolls were all first-rate musicians. In 1973 they split into Ibis and Atomic System factions. The album N.T. Atomic System sounds like typical New Trolls, hard and heavy, rocking along nicely. But once you start getting into it, you begin to realize that it is one of the very best, a cornerstone of Italian prog, just for the sake of its spirit. An especially brilliant track is “Quando L’erba Vestiva La Terra”: it is the artist’s act of communion with Mother Nature. Agreed, there’s a lot of imperfection here, but the heights that are scaled can be breathtaking.

The concept of Darwin!, by Banco del Mutuo Soccorso, was presumably still revolutionary in 1973 when this record came out. Nothing came from Almighty God, but Creation was created by and from itself – that’s how the lyrics start out. But I don’t think Banco had an axe to grind at all. The whole thing is quite whimsical. I guess they wanted a theme where they could sing to words that wouldn’t impose anything on anyone. That meant the singer (– one Francesco Di Giacomo, who allegedly appeared in a Fellini film, although I can’t verify that –) could make his voice sound natural. Then the other performers could concentrate on making music that just sounded good. Even if the theory of evolution is sometimes disputed with regard to its scientific content, Darwin and his observations always make for an interesting and edifying presentation of factual material. And Banco lives up to its agreements on that score, by carefully crafting widely varying musical textures. The music is never hurried, except perhaps in the early part, where it is probably trying to represent Darwin’s intellectual agitation on perceiving and originally pursuing the theory of evolution. This, the second Banco LP, is definitely a classic, regardless how one views other LPs by this band.

Il Paese dei Balocchi brought out their eponymous effort in 1972. This record stands, therefore, on the crest of the Itaprog wave, and it may actually be one of its most enduring works. It does not appear to be influenced in any way by the Laurel and Hardy film, Babes In Toyland; any such theme probably stems ultimately from the Nutcracker anyway. On the contrary, it is a self-sustaining concept, whereby endemic human shortcomings are explored in reference to the situation that is projected to exist in Toyland. The first side examines the vices that prevail, the neglect of virtue, the chance of hope, and evasion. From this subconscious self-analysis the subject awakes to a vision of Toyland, as represented on the second side. The toys may live truth, but their qualities are excessive. From such an encounter the subject then awakes altogether. This is an interesting projection of human psychology, and it can be beneficial, perhaps, granted we keep in mind that the entire project, even the band, is called ‘toyland’.