Isn’t it wonderful when you can skip just whole bits of history and get to the pertinent parts? Such is the case with Franco Mussida’s Racconti Della Tenda Rossa (or Tales Of The Red Curtain), made by someone who most of you may already know as the founding member and lead guitarist (and sometimes vocalist) for huge Italian prog institution PFM (Premiata Forneria Marconi). Let’s pretend you already know the backstory to one of prog’s once longest-running groups and skip to that delicate time when Franco felt inspiration from ethno-jazz, fusion, and art rock. In the end, creating a fitting collection of Balearic balladry that sounds of a period, seemingly, lost to time.
You see for decades, Franco had been the “responsible” one keeping PFM focused on remaining relevant in the larger musical world. When other prog giants were getting taken out to pasture by punk and New Wave, he was largely responsible for shifting their sound to stay with any prevalent sound. By the late ‘80s, when PFM remained better reverting to backing others (as they had when they started), Franco finally took it upon himself to release his first solo album and the rest of the group pursued other interests. Many fans hoping to hear in Racconti Della Tenda Rossa a multimeter, wigged-out, “rock” album befitting a Milanese guitar god were in for a rude awakening.
What they got was Franco in “reflective” mode, shifting towards a modal sound that spoke of communion with the league of singer-songwriters like Fabrizio De Andre, Paul Simon, and others who drew inspiration from the more meditative music from African shores. Once again, I hear the Nana Vasconcelos-laced work of Mr. Metheny found another convert. You still get hints of his overflowing creativity but now it’s restrained and tastefully peppered in. Songs like “Himalaya” could pass for ECM burners. In 1991, under Virgin Records, Franco Mussida had his eyes set on meeting everyone in the middle of the road. He had ideas ready to come out that would have sounded out of place with PFM.
Developing an interest in helping his community out, Franco had quietly begun a career teaching music to inmates in prison and those having issues fitting in school. Franco would begin the CPM Music Institute to promote musical therapy. Finding inspiration in creating art and in art, Franco also channeled that personal touch into his music, too.
The sessions for Racconti Della Tenda Rossa appear to have been conducive to what we’d hear. Relaxing and forgiving, for once, Franco had time to create songs on his own time. Out came songs like “Radici Di Terra” that are the meeting point between Francesco Di Gregori and Hassell. Other songs like “La Discesa Di Michele” explode with eye-level emotion like Lucio Battitsti’s best ambient torch ballads.
“Little Marie”, a song found near the end, is just intriguing leftfield soul music that could only come out of this weird miasma of early ‘90s Italy. Then there are the barely there deep Mediterranean ruminations like “Orizzonti Del Cuore” and “La Cava Di Sabbia” that seem completely out of step with whatever art rock was floating elsewhere then.
Another bit of new canon to add to the old fart music done by old farts (appreciated by old farts-at-heart), it gives me deep Dire Straits lost in Rimini vibrations. Impossible to pinpoint in any specific genre Racconti Della Tenda Rossa is yet another gentle reminder that some of the best music is done in (relative) isolation.