Whenever I write a retrospective review of an album that means a lot to me, I try to make sure that it’s an album that has not had its horn tooted over the years. In this case, I think I’m onto a winner, because Concerto grosso nº 2 isn’t even remotely regarded as the band’s best work. Those kind of plaudits are typically handed to the original Concerto grosso per i New Trolls – the band’s innovative first outing with composer Luis Enríquez Bacalov – or the hard-rocking UT, released shortly before their 1973 hiatus. But to me, Concerto grosso nº 2 is entirely special, even if it doesn’t push the envelope. And as it’s celebrating its 50th anniversary this year without any other kind of fanfare, I thought I’d lend it my thoughts.
It all started when a dear friend of mine gifted me a CD with Concerto grosso 1 and 2 on it, interested in what I’d think of the first album. I saw the appeal, enjoyed the blend of classical and rock (that was clearly made popular after Deep Purple made their landmark Concerto live album in 1969), but I couldn’t really get into the lengthy, shapeless jam that took up the original side two.
The more widely renowned Concerto grosso 1 was the intended gift, with the Concerto grosso 2 tracks as bonus leftovers. But as soon as those tracks began to play, I sat up at the marked increase in production value. Less of a studio experiment, the mini three-part Concerto on this second album felt more like a fully realised vision, combining the band and orchestra seamlessly. In the opener, Bacalov gives nods to other composers such as Handel, whose Water Music also served as the foundation for Faced with Shekinah by Fruupp.
The Andante part is subtitled Most Dear Lady, and we get our first taste of producer Sergio Bardotti’s intriguing lyrics, translated rather haphazardly into English and then sung in a thick Italian accent. This accent, on both the regular and falsetto vocals has a timbre that I suppose is like Marmite… but I happen to love it. The sweeping score is overly sentimental in a way that British musicians would have probably shied away from; I’m reminded of Riz Ortolani’s lush film scores he made in the 60s.
The final movement, Moderato, sees some actual prog in the form of the band and orchestra playing together in 11/8: the counting is fairly simple as the band just stick a 3/8 fill at the end of two bars of 4/4, but it’s satisfying nonetheless. For the verse, they switch to a simpler 12/8 before returning to the odd metre. And lastly, there’s a reprise of the original theme (something I felt was lacking in the original Concerto grosso).
The album falls short in many fans’ eyes due to the abundance of cheesy ballads that follow, and normally this would make me baulk too, but these ones happen to be so charming and cleverly written that I simply can’t help but love them. Quiet Seas begins as a piano ballad with unbelievably simple lyrics: “Tonight I’m feeling bad… girl.” In his ridiculous plea, the singer begs, “I’ve never gone away, to try some distant place,” which is definitely pronounced as play the second time around. In finishing his grammatically dicey argument, he “hopes that we can build up some world together.” The hilariously bad lyrics are so passionately sung that you can’t help but love it. And then, all of a sudden, a bombastic minute-long coda blasts the piano away, giving a highly unexpected symphonic and energetic ending to this short ballad. This might be the one time a sledgehammer was used to crack a nut, but it ended perfectly.
I won’t lie, the one song I’ve never been fond of is the unusual, acoustic Vent’anni, meaning Twenty Years. It has its moments, especially in the “Qui” bridge, but without a strong melody or being able to emotionally attach to the Italian lyrics, it remains lost on me. I’m more hooked by the other Italian-language song, the pop-laden Bella come mai (Beautiful as Ever). The band revert back to English again for Let It Be Me, a sun-drenched ballad that also employs ridiculous sentimentality to surprising effect: “So nev, never never leave me lonely (backing vocals: leaving me lonely!)” It’s still ridiculous, but I can’t help belting it out.
But the track that originally sealed the deal for me on why I love this album so much is the closing Le Roi Soleil, an insanely complex, highly symphonic, fast-paced mini-suite based on the life and times of King Louis XIV. After so many ballads, this sudden burst of energy comes right out of nowhere, and the band lean into the Queen-like drama of the piece with overlapping vocals and tight musical interplay. They don’t take themselves too seriously either; in the centre of the song, the lyrics seem to simply list quintessentially French things: “du cognac et du champagne”, “du fromage et du paté”. My favourite lyrics have to be, “What about the pompadour? This is not a calembour!” At this point, you can tell they’re really reaching the bottom of the barrel for rhymes.
But just as the song is coming to a close, the band have one last surprise for us: a reprise of that bombastic Quiet Seas coda! It makes absolutely no sense, because the two songs don’t seem to be linked in any way, but the same outro seems to work wonders for both songs and shows that they inherently belong in the same collection. Usually, I’d take a strong track like Le Roi Soleil for my playlists and forget about the rest of the album altogether, but this synergy between tracks is why I tend to listen to Concerto grosso nº 2 in one go. Like a lot of other Italian albums from that period, it’s ridiculously short at just 33 minutes, so it’s not a large time investment.
It’s ridiculous, cheesy, sentimental and blatantly trying to capitalise on their earlier success, but for me this is where New Trolls somehow peaked. To me, there’s no question that Le Roi Soleil is their ‘best’ prog song, and I recommend that every prog fan give it a go, regardless of whether you have any appetite for cheese. I can fully understand why the rest of the album wouldn’t float other people’s boats, but this is one that improbably happens to float mine. Happy 50th!
TRACK LISTING
01. Concerto grosso nº 2 (12:42)
a) Vivace (4:41)
b) Andante – “Most Dear Lady” (3:39)
c) Moderato – “Fare You Well Dove” (4:12)
02. Quiet Seas (3:21)
03. Vent’anni (4:47)
04. Bella come mai (4:11)
05. Let It Be Me (3:17)
06. Le Roi Soleil (5:18)
Total Time – 33:26
MUSICIANS
Vittorio De Scalzi – Synthesisers, Piano, Fender Rhodes, Acoustic Guitar, Flute, Vocals
Nico Di Palo – Electric & Acoustic Guitars, ARP, Synthesisers, Vocals
Giorgio D’Adamo – Bass, Vocals
Gianni Belleno – Drums, Percussion, Vocals
Ricky Belloni – Electric & Acoustic Guitars, Vocals
ADDITIONAL INFO
Record Label: Magma
Country of Origin: Italy
Year of Release: 1976
LINKS
New Trolls – Facebook (Official Fan Page)
