On this page we return to the Itaprog classics – with a vengeance. The music of Sensitiva Immagine was originally made available in 1977 on a privately packaged cassette tape with the title, E tutto cominciò così. More than anything else, this unaccustomed medium reflected the dire straits into which Itaprog had now ridden. Evidently the band opted for this relatively inexpensive solution as they believed it unlikely that a recording contract would materialize in such an unfavorable climate. In addition, the performances are not entirely in tune, and the listener deduces that this unfortunate effect – not unknown, actually, among the acknowledged classics of Itaprog – is primarily a result of underproduction. In other words, if the defects of the product are unusually visible, we should attribute that circumstance to its undoctored state. All of these circumstances are more or less reflected in the nature of the music, with its advanced progressive format, including a variety of interesting and unexpected tempo changes, and its melancholic atmosphere. The miraculous thing is that it represents the furthest advance of 70s Itaprog in compositional terms. Given its fundamental position in the history of Italian popular music, therefore, a ribbon of classic status can be pinned upon it happily.

Capsicum Red’s Appunti per un’idea fissa is quite a different kettle of fish in that it comes to us from the dawn of Itaprog – recorded in 1971, released in 1972 – and suffers from its own peculiar sound problem. The master tapes were destroyed, and CD editions have had to be produced from LP copies. I’ve heard tracks from the better of the two CD editions, and there is clearly still an aural problem, as the second LP side starts out muffled, with some extraneous sound entering as well – very strange! The album is renowned for its first track, a 15-minute rock rendition of Beethoven’s piano sonata, Pathétique, with some strong improvisational interplay between the four performers. This is certainly one of the most eminent of the many Pathétique adaptations in popular music, beating out Latte E Miele’s hands down. The second side is then given over to compositions by Red Canzian, who apparently lent his nickname to the group, although the keyboardist Mauro Bolzan is the most prominent of the performers. Only towards the end does a Pathétique motif return. These compositions are not especially ear-catching, but they represent an intellectual development of the music and invite the listener to consider the overall construction.

I have seen it suggested that Celeste recorded their album, Principe di un giorno, in 1974. I’m not so sure about that. It came out in 1976 on the Grog label, and it was not the first Grog release, albeit the first classic album on that label. The sound is so refined that one can scarcely believe it lay in the vaults for so many months. One also wishes to believe that it was recorded in happy circumstances, given the level of accomplishment reflected in the performances. But perhaps that is not so. We have little or no information on why Vittorio De Scalzi’s Magma label folded early in 1976, or how he was able to set up Grog long enough to publish the handful of distinguished recordings that come down to us on this label. The financial impact of the New Trolls’ court case on the progressive rock industry may never be known, for the details of that case are hazy enough in themselves. The music of Celeste reflects none of this, but it is indeed a long way from standard progressive rock. Only a handful of passages show conventional instrumentation. Persistent rhythms and tonalities signal it as rock music, as does the use of mellotron and synthesizer. But a good part of the vocabulary is drawn from classical, avantgarde and folk music.