The progressive scene in Italy took slightly longer to catch on than it did in the UK, with PFM and Banco’s stunning debuts and sophomores only showing up in 1972, by the time Yes and many other British groups had already reached their creative apex with albums such as Close to the Edge. But there were some early innovators on the boot-shaped peninsula, such as the ever-popular Le Orme, New Trolls, The Trip, and Panna Fredda. Amongst these burgeoning creatives was a more obscure group that was not successful enough to release an album at the time: Il Sistema.
Despite their lack of success as a unit (they dissolved after two years in late 1971), the band’s name would go down in prog history as one that birthed two of Rock Progresivo Italiano’s (RPI) most celebrated groups: Museo Rosenbach and Celeste. In 1973, Museo Rosenbach released Zarathustra; for my money, it’s one of the best prog albums of all time, each track brimming with ideas, energy, instrumental wizardry and a keen sense of composition. The album is bombastic, extravagant and perhaps a little too over-the-top at times, but that’s what makes it such an excellent prog album.
Il Sistema’s percussionist and flautist Ciro Perrino wanted precisely the opposite of that sort of sound and sought to make a lighter, brighter, more pastoral sort of prog with Celeste. Even from the albums’ covers, the difference is stark; Zarathustra features a hellish, mask-like face on a pitch-black background, while Celeste’s debut features a simple white sleeve with the band’s name in a light, gentle font, leaving much to the imagination. It could be said that Celeste was the antithesis of Museo Rosenbach. How odd that they should both come from the same place.
Both bands have been on my radar since I first started enjoying RPI and learning that it was actually quite easy to listen to prog even when it was sung in a different language. Like any diligent prog fan, I checked ProgArchives for their top-ranked RPI albums and tried them all. For reference, Zarathustra remains at an exceptional #5 spot of best RPI albums of all time, surrounded by other essentials, while Celeste’s debut receives a very impressive #20, ahead of scores of other phenomenal Italian albums. But on my initial listen, I was turned off by the lack of ‘rock’ on the album; the drums are used very infrequently, and the proceedings are so light that they failed to engage me in the way a lot of prog does. So I left Celeste alone… until the announcement that the same debut was being reissued fifty years later with new English vocals. Perhaps it was time for a reassessment.
Surprisingly enough, an English-language album has been Perrino’s dream all along, originally hiring English singer Nikki Berenice Burton to record the vocals back in the 70s. However, life got in the way, and the singer had to return, forcing Perrino to sing on the album himself in Italian. When the studio received the master tapes in 1974, they baulked at the album’s niche appeal and shelved the recordings for two years. It seems that the studio had the same reaction to the album as I did.
A half-century has passed since Celeste’s music first graced the record-buying public, and the resourceful Ciro Perrino has done much with the project since, releasing old recordings from the vaults in the 90s and giving the project a fully-fledged renaissance in 2019 with new recordings. But now, he’s revisiting that first album with the help of Siobhán Owen, whose angelic vocals grace the album instead of his own.
Not that this necessarily reveals the concept of the album more clearly than when the album wasn’t in English; they’re still just as vague and symbolic as most standard prog lyrics. If anything, I think there’s something mysteriously artistic about hearing songs in another language, knowing that a straight translation won’t always have the same meaning as the original. Perhaps that’s precisely why Perrino wanted English lyrics instead of Italian.
But most important is the music itself, which remains unchanged from the 1976 release. The original album on Spotify has pretty poor audio quality; those hoping for a drastic improvement in the album’s fidelity will be disappointed, as it turns out the original master tapes were lost in a flood back in the 70s. Still, I’d argue this release does sound better than the Spotify version, as the audio masters were taken from a mint vinyl copy, and Perrino’s vocals were scrubbed meticulously without AI. It’s quite remarkable how no trace of the Italian vocal remains.
Sadly, however, after all these years, the music remains impenetrable to me. I can appreciate the unique artistry and the chamber-music aesthetic of letting various instruments guide the listener through a very different sort of journey. I can also appreciate that there are many of the classic elements of RPI to enjoy, from the timbre of the instruments – mellotron, flute, piano, acoustic guitar, to name just a few – to that uniquely Italian way of letting them all come together to form something supremely melodic.
But without something more substantial to bite into – no explosion, no release of tension, no real groove – then there’s no hook for me to feel latched onto. With some of my favourite albums, it only took one track to begin to change my mind and pretty soon I’d enjoy the whole thing. But Celeste seem steadfastly and resolutely against any sort of hard rock, even though I can tell they’d be fantastic at it; the scant few times that drums are added and the music begins to sound something more like regular RPI, the moment dissipates quickly and without much resolution. It’s as if Celeste are teasing me, knowing what I want. I haven’t felt this frustrated since re-listening to Storm Corrosion.
I may be biased as a drummer, but I believe prog rock without drums is pretty hard to pull off; there’s a reason that so few have tried. Of course, Mike Oldfield managed to pull a large audience with his earliest albums, and the Canadian group Harmonium produced an absolute masterpiece with 1975’s Si on avait besoin d’une cinquième saison, but these are the exceptions rather than the rule. Those artists still understood how dynamics and contrast can help to create exceptional music. In Celeste’s case, the songs all have a very similar soft dynamic with little variation; it’s great for those who like this sort of thing, but the band are metaphorically putting all their eggs in one basket.
Perhaps the main question that listeners will have when approaching this release is: do the English vocals improve the album? Having listened to both versions side-by-side, I can honestly say that they neither improve nor detract, but simply create an alternate listening experience. Perrino’s vocals on the original were absolutely fine, and Owen’s delicate, ethereal vocals also get the job done without losing the mythical tone of the concept album. That in itself is a remarkable achievement; usually when vocals are scrubbed and replaced, it can sound like a hatchet job. Now that there are effectively two versions of the album that could be dubbed as ‘definitive’, there ought to be a kerfuffle in the fan base.
Prog can take many forms; I wish I could be a fan of all of it, but Celeste’s Prince of One Day is simply too soft and lacking in contrast for my liking. Other RPI bands such as PFM, Banco, Campo di Marte, Locanda delle Fate and even Museo Rosenbach would incorporate lighter, acoustic passages into their music while demonstrating they could handle the heavier side too. In comparison, Perrino and Celeste’s stubbornness in sticking to one lane on this album feels less like an exercise in restraint and more like a missed opportunity to embrace what was actually brilliant about the genre. I can empathise with the executive’s decision to shelve this album back in the day, as I also find it to be lacking in broad appeal.
But with its handsome score on ProgArchives, I’m sure I must be in the minority on this, and I’m guessing there are many out there who yearn for something soft, melodic and truly artistic while retaining the classic RPI vibe. Prince of One Day is all that and more, and with this new edition you can finally experience this album as it was originally intended by its creators. You’ll also be supporting one of the most delightful and effusive artists I’ve ever had the pleasure of speaking to if you do. Look forward to my interview with Ciro Perrino, where I question the man himself on just how the album came together, then and now.
TRACK LISTING
01. Prince of One Day (6:09)
02. Ancient Fables (8:15)
03. Eftus (4:12)
04. Games in the Night (8:09)
05. The Great Island (4:58)
06. Far White Halo (3:42)
07. The Merchant (1:07)
Total Time – 36:32
MUSICIANS
Giorgio Battaglia – Bass, Electric Guitar, Xylophone, Bass Pedals, Choir
Leonardo Lagorio – Acoustic & Electric Piano, Saxophones, Keyboards, Flute, Choir
Ciro Perrino – Mellotron, Keyboards, Synthesisers, Flute, Recorders, Choir, Percussion
Mariano Schiavolini – Guitars, Keyboards, Violin, Choir
~ With:
Siobhán Owen – Vocals
ADDITIONAL INFO
Record Label: Inner Garden Records
Catalogue #: IGR 05
Country of Origin: Italy
Date of Release: 20th March 2026
LINKS
Celeste (Ciro Perrino) – Website | Facebook | Bandcamp | YouTube | X
