Storia di un Impiegato is
Fabrizio De André's fourth and last concept album, and as such it closes an essential period of his career. In many ways a transition album,
De André himself acknowledged that it failed to reach the heights of his previous two masterpieces
La Buona Novella and
Non al Denaro non All'Amore Nè al Cielo. As its title proclaims,
Storia di un Impiegato tells the story of a nameless, ordinary clerk whose political conscience is awakened while listening to a five-year-old French song from May 1968. The clerk realizes that all his life he has been a conformist, selfish, non-entity, and decides it is high time to join the fray. After a series of bizarre delusional nightmares, he attempts to blow up the Parliament, fails ludicrously, and ends up in jail. Ironically, once a prisoner, he finally achieves his dream of becoming part of a collective. The most overtly political of
De André's albums, it was released at a time of exacerbated internal turmoil in Italy, torn by terrorism and state repression, as well as economic crisis and generational conflict. Almost inevitably in such a charged atmosphere, the album's concept and recording were marred by dissent between
De André and his collaborators, writer Giuseppe Bentivoglio, producer
Roberto Dané, and composer
Nicola Piovani, over the general direction the project should follow.
Dané and Bentivoglio wanted an all-out Marxist analysis of class conflict, while
De André was more interested in the protagonist's psychology. The resulting product is a mixed bag. On the one hand, some tracks (especially the recitatives) are guilty of a heavy-handed ideological thrust that now sounds outdated and pretentious. On the other, the best songs exude a vital sense of anger, sorrow, and remorse that ranks them among
De André's finest. For instance, "Introduzione/Canzone del Maggio" (liberally adapted from a May 1968 French protest song) is a killer opening, a rollicking attack on all those who preferred to look the other way while riots were taking place right in front of their noses. Full of outrage and venom, this song is the closest
De André will sound to
Phil Ochs or
Bob Dylan (in fact, even if it precedes it by two years, in its bite it is very reminiscent of the latter's "Hurricane"). At the other end of the album, "Verrano a Chiederti del Nosto amore" is arguably the most devastating love song
De André ever wrote -- which should say it all. Furthermore, the entire album is strengthened by excellent sequencing, which creates a flowing, overall listening experience that may amount to more than the sum of its parts. An imperfect but thoroughly compelling album,
Storia di un Impiegato remains a worthy addition to
De André's impeccable catalog. ~ Mariano Prunes