It is believed that only two LPs were released by the Help! subsidiary of RCA Italiana. They appeared in 1972. One was the legendary Quella Vecchia Locanda album, the other was the first Procession album. We have already proferred the slightly heretical view that the first QVL is perhaps not quite as engrossing as the second QVL. Now we shall assail the court of public opinion even further by proposing not merely that the first Procession album is better than the second (entitled Fiaba, which appeared in 1974), but also that it is the more remarkable and interesting of the two Help! albums. This record, entitled Frontiera and focusing on the social problem of urban dislocation, is a classic of the hard rock no less than of the progressive rock genres. It is above all a guitar album. You actually don’t hear any keyboards, just two guitarists in assorted electric and acoustic combinations, with the occasional mandolin, over a supportive drum and bass rhythm section, and competent vocals (plus harmonica) rounding out a warm, full-bodied sound.

Now this is a nice, obscure one from 1973. Remember, it was a year that for Itaprog was a sort of Halcyon days, and this is a record for those who actually derive relaxation from ‘hard’ rock instrumentation in skillful arrangements. So the product is both intellectually advanced and highly cultured musically. Campo di Marte has two great assets: its fuzz-toning, feed-backing guitar sounds, and a genius for varying arrangements with ongoing and massive shifts in texture, time signature, motif, and mood. Among the anomalies of the instrumentation are: the occasional two drummers, some trombone work, choral voices, and much more. There are vocals, but no vocalist per se. Campo di Marte is a “a field of war against War”. Within the genre or movement it should stand as one of the great achievements, but it also stands well enough when considered in isolation.
Here we have the album by Blocco Mentale from 1973. It is called Poa, and this time I can tell you not only that the title is Greek for sure, but also what it means: ‘grass’. My understanding is that the title is indicative of environmentalist and conservationist themes that are presented in the songs. What can we say, therefore, about this record? In deference to the sentiments of others we will definitely not want to use terms like ‘masterpiece’, and we may even encounter some displeasure if we air the term ‘classic’. But to give Blocco Mentale their due, Poa takes up its niche near the pinnacle. It appears to be an effort to define a certain type of progressive music, which we might want to call light prog. The finale, entitled “Verde”, sounds as though it were meant to be a pop song, as do other parts of the record, but this music is of course way too sensitive to ever sell for a commercial success. The whole product demands absolutely nothing of the listener, rather, the slightest concentration will yield relaxation.
Dedicato a Frazz, the only recording by Semiramis, came out on the Trident label in 1973, and you seldom find it named without the word ‘classic’ associated. So what is it about this record? Have the pundits taken leave of their senses entirely? The band consisted entirely of kids. They were all between 15 and 17 years old at the time, and I confess they sound out of tune to me – even if they did have a well-in-tune and proficient vibraphonist. Admittedly the vocals are excellent, and though the compositions seem daft they do follow each other logically. There is also a ‘band feel’, as though the five performers have a lot of confidence in each other. What grates is the sharp contrasts that arise within songs and even within song sections. When compared to other Itaprog classics, Dedicato a Frazz seems, not naïve, but perhaps a little excessive in its exuberance. The Trident label produced seven LPs in all, I think, plus a couple that never got released. In addition to Semiramis they include the first album by Opus Avantra, the last by The Trip, and of course Biglietto Per L’inferno, the most renowned of all. Those are all from the top drawer, but perhaps also a little overrated, which may have something to do with the fancy Trident LP label, where side one is completely given over to a sketch of the sea-god Neptune holding a trident.
Samadhi, they were just a continuation of Raccomandata Ricevuta Ritorno, right? So, what’s up? Well, for one thing, the Samadhi band which recorded in 1975 drew personnel from several earlier recorded bands: only the singer and guitarist came from RRR. Superficially the sound was very similar, however, because the singer is quite distinctive. The singer is highly representative of 70s Itaprog, possessing many characteristic qualities such as lilt, a capacity for exploring sonority, and coarse edges that are recognizable as part of the singer’s individuality. But perhaps those are also reasons why these records are not widely known, especially if the ensemble effects are at all subtle. Anyway, the Samadhi record stands on its own two feet with a raison d’être that is unrelated yet complementary to that of RRR. Both band and record bear the name Samadhi, meaning ‘inner peace’, which is from the Sanskrit and part of the Buddhist tradition, reminding us that this is in large part an ascetic exercise, like many of the classics of the genre. Musically, there are highly cultured rock passages, plus the anomaly of an unusually well-placed horn section.
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