An invisible thread ties together the raw confessions of Napodano's new album, a record that makes no apologies for its naked truth and has no time for today's musical hypocrisies. Today, Friday 9 May, "Storie di una sera... con poca gente" (StreetLabel Records) bursts onto the market, an album that transforms nocturnal thoughts into mercilessly honest songs, far from the dazzling lights of the mainstream and the sappy ballads that infest the charts. Born as a follow-up to "Non ci sono + i cantautori", this work by Napodano is a punch in the stomach of everyday hypocrisy, collecting scattered notes from an ordinary evening, perhaps with a glass that doesn't know if it's half full or half empty. It's the raw truth that counts, without frills or false hopes, just like real life that prefers cutting irony to sentimental molasses.
A Journey into Fragilities
The album opens with “Il fuoco e la neve”, a brutal entrance into a private world where Napodano exposes his cracks with a disarming grace. Then comes “Di martedì”, an explosion of lucid anger against the prevailing superficiality, a ferocious attack on an existence that runs at full speed without a goal, leaving most people wondering what the hell is going on.
Songs That Strike the Heart
Each track is a dive into the complexity of existence, like “Cammino sui muri”, a waltz that invites you to stop among the ruins of what you don’t dare say. “Niente di speciale”, already on the radio, mixes love and social criticism in sharp and disenchanted verses, perfect for those who have stopped believing in fairy tales but don’t give up a bit of raw beauty. And then “Ciao”, an ironic handshake after the chaos of a failed love, while “La verità” plays with the clichés of Sanremo by launching a veiled – and slightly irreverent – dig with a special dedication to Carlo Conti, the artistic director of the Festival.
“Buonanotte Luna” becomes a sort of rebellious lullaby, seen through the cynical eyes of a father who imagines a less corrupt world for his daughter. The whole thing ends with “Il filo dell'aquilone”, a suspended and melancholic finale that avoids the usual happy endings, preferring to leave the listener with thoughts that hover like ghosts. With his scratched and unfiltered voice, Napodano once again proves to be a singer-songwriter who doesn’t shout, but makes sharp words resonate.Writing and singing without filters, without having to please everyone, without giving in to market rules. This is the true privilege – says Napodano – I didn’t want a perfect album, I wanted my own album. And that’s what happened.”
Article published on May 9, 2025 - 17:49 pm
