The Problem with Rock in Italy?
Well, I don’t presume to be an expert like G. Castaldo or the late E. Assante, nor a connoisseur of genuinely good music today like E. Silvestrin. But I still want to offer my unsolicited opinion on something that, in my view, is obvious—though too many people, with their polemics, pub talk wisdom, and opportunism, ignore it—when it’s so evident!
The issue lies in the way a name is managed. Let me clarify: I’m not just talking about “big names” in music, nor do I mean management. I’m referring to the concept that Italian “artists” have of the brand their name represents.
Maybe a "Vasco Rossi" can be, in a way, a brand or a company—considering how many people are employed thanks to his name—within the Universal group. In this sense, when a singer starts out in Italy, recording and performing, they’re building their name, ultimately aiming to grow old as the brand grows, becoming a “valued” name, enabling them to enjoy retirement with easy albums, the kind any good label would want—no risks, guaranteed profits, calculated costs.
I could be wrong, but it seems to me this is true for stadium rock, commercial pop (even more so, I’d say), and even the so-called “indie scene” (if it still exists). This applies, too, to that “alternative-mainstream” scene that thrives on the web—like artists and bands that blow up on TikTok, trap beats in Stories, and “current hits” playlists on Spotify. All this stuff relies on brief moments of spontaneity, then morphs into part of the big media machine. Just think of how many '70s, '80s, and '90s hits have made a comeback thanks to some TikTok video, resurfacing in the charts, soundtracks, and even as covers in movie trailers for 2020s action flicks.
Then, there’s a scene—or several scenes—that escape these mechanisms. I’m talking about the true enthusiasts who put their heart, mind, and guts into their music. These are the ones who record and publish music for free on the internet, often under Creative Commons. Or those who work hard to find small labels, balancing Bandcamp releases, streaming platforms, and, especially, live shows in nearby regions, within their reach. For some of these artists, especially punk or electronic projects, there are chances to play abroad and make a small name for themselves.
But do they stop there? Often, no. Their project is rarely singular; they’re involved in multiple projects, thinking in terms of “projects” rather than a “brand” to promote. Their mindset is similar to that of jazz musicians, who build a name and experience, then churn out projects non-stop, traveling the world and doing their craft with a dignity and creativity that those who market their “artist image” as a brand often can’t or aren’t interested in understanding.
One artist I’m very fond of comes to mind: Bugo. At first, he did it all—played everything, tried everything, and his name was a container for various creative projects. Solo acoustic singer-songwriter, gritty garage rock band, psychedelic art experiment in a Captain Beefheart style, an unlikely DJ who held entire concerts without playing a single instrument, making strange sounds with samplers and recording unlistenable techno… After his first two albums with a major label, though, with Sguardo Contemporaneo, Bugo started taking things seriously. Projects became 100% as a true, brave, authentic rock singer-songwriter leading a project. The album is the project, the band is the project, Bugo becomes the project, promoting the album, performing concerts, giving interviews. His perspective was indeed “contemporary” but too narrow to embrace a life of “living off music.” He may see it as “living by tricks,” but working on multiple projects wouldn’t have weakened Bugo—if anything, it would have fueled curiosity in people eager to discover the mind behind such varied music.
Instead, Bugo moved forward one album at a time—of very high quality, well-produced and well-written. But albums the general public doesn’t seek out and that only true fans recognize as solid records, with Bugo landing closer to a Vasco Rossi than a Tiziano Ferro. Imagine if Bugo had kept making one album a year, each with a distinct statement, something bold, unusual, everyday, or… who knows, something to say. What if he continued dabbling in electronic music, folk, creating side projects, a bit like Damon Albarn or John Dwyer with their numerous musical projects? Italy’s culture is different from the UK or the US, of course, but who says that what’s born in Italy must stay in Italy?
Many artists have good ideas; many just want to live off their art and are happy to do a job that is also their passion. Many are crushed by the control of their label (and it's not just the majors that "ruin" the creative freedom of artists and their musical projects) or by delusions of grandeur and showmanship, which pushes them to become TV personalities when music alone isn't enough.
Bugo tries: he stands up to a world that pushes against him, but while the world doesn’t crush him and he does his own thing, the public gets along just fine without him. From my point of view, this is a failure for someone who could have been a major name in Italian music—if only he had bowed to market logic and sold out. It’s a shame, but I see it like the parable of the talents—some have little and yield little, some have much and yield much… and then there’s those who have their “name” to grow, yet bury it underground, like an ostrich with its head in the sand, only to be left empty-handed when it’s time to reap the reward.
As for treating one's "name" or "project" as a brand, I’m not totally against it, but there are brands, and then there are brands. In the USA and UK, for instance, there are “names” that are like large family businesses that must be preserved over time (like the “greats” of country and pop/R&B music).
There are also true multinationals (U2, Coldplay, Metallica, Foo Fighters, and all the other stadium machines) that reach astonishing levels of inhumanity, with suicides, depression, and undeniable signs of aging masked by hair dye and a few touch-ups.
Then there are the small farm businesses, those that keep their region alive, known locally and appreciated for the quality of their products, but who never break through and, at best, are bought out by “those with money” to produce for them—and how many independent musicians and bands live this story, from the passionate and innovative musician to the session man or producer for a given label? At a certain point, you get older, have to settle down, and bring home the bread…
Finally, there are the ones I truly admire: the damn hippies! Those who don’t work—or at least not in a legal way... But is it really like that? They are the ones who actually make it: the Dead, the Phish, the bluesmen and jazz players, and all the electronic scenes of acid house, techno, trance, and many other musicians across genres who make a name for themselves by cultivating a fanbase through relentless touring, seeing their profits grow along with their discography, their persistence, and their simple dedication to doing what they know best, with countless side projects to boot.
In Italy, we lack everything outside of the first category, then jump straight to the fourth category with those who perhaps succeed abroad but not in Italy.
No international band, except for a few pop names (like Pausini), and no real success for local artists, except for liscio, which is comparable to the polka genre in the USA.
Oh, I almost forgot: we also have the hard discount category in Italy that sells us “pretty good” stuff of questionable quality. The world is full of these. We’re talking about what’s born and dies for radio. Oh, and are we seriously considering Måneskin a quality artisanal product of Italy? Those who started by busking with cover songs, maybe playing a few church contests, then shot to prime time with a talent show, followed by Sanremo, Eurovision, and AMERICAS?! And from there, singles on Virgin Radio and packed concerts, in true K-pop style? Well, maybe we can slap the “it-pop” label on this nonsense.
Yes, I might not appreciate Måneskin's music too much, but it clashes with my sense of fairness.
Alright, excuse my long stream-of-consciousness ramble, and enjoy a great Bugo track.
P.S.: No, my family isn’t expanding.