Green Like July - All the colors of a new day

interview by Gabriele Benzing

A kaleidoscope of colors. Just like the ones imagined by illustrator Olimpia Zagnoli for the vibrant video for “Moving To The City”. This is how the third album by Green Like July presents itself, “Build A Fire”, arriving two years after the release of “Four-Legged Fortune”: a record that reaches for an unprecedented variety of landscapes, aided also by the contribution of a guest of the caliber of Enrico Gabrielli. Andrea Poggio, the songwriting heart of Green Like July since day one, guides us through the new palette of “Build A Fire”, uncovering a desire for change made up of troubled farewells, but above all of solid achievements.

Since the release of “Four-Legged Fortune”, Green Like July have changed their look: how did you arrive at the band's current lineup?

Over the years Green Like July have gone through numerous lineups, many of which never found “official” consecration on record. The split from Nicola Crivelli [the band's former bassist and guitarist, ed.], which happened a year after the release of “Four-Legged Fortune”, was as painful as it was necessary: from an artistic point of view our paths had taken diverging directions. We were very lucky to find first Marco Verna and then Roberto Paravia. Marco, besides being an excellent guitarist, is also very good on piano. For Green Like July this was a complete novelty: we started working on the arrangements of the songs often starting right from piano and keyboards. Roberto, on the other hand, is a bassist with boundless taste and a very soft, delicate touch: rhythmically he brought fresh energy into the band.

For the recording of the new album you went back to Nebraska, but the approach you took to the work seems to have been very different. Where did this shift in perspective come from?

“Four-Legged Fortune” was recorded and mixed in just two weeks. It's a record almost entirely recorded live, and one for which we had a precise sound in mind: we wanted to sound American. It's a very spontaneous record, and as such it has the strengths, but also the flaws, of spontaneity.

“Build a Fire” was conceived over a span of almost three years and was recorded and mixed in two months. It's a record with a much more complex architecture than “Four-Legged Fortune”, and for its arrangements we set ourselves no limits whatsoever.

Is there a particular anecdote about your time in America you'd like to share with us?

During the month in Omaha we worked a lot. I don't have any particular memories outside the recording studio: we'd go into the studio early in the morning and come out when it was already night. One anecdote... One evening, while we were in the garden, we saw a Datsun pick-up truck approaching in the distance. Out of the car steps Jake Bellows. I hadn't heard from Jake in a long time, I only knew he'd moved to Los Angeles. Jake hugs us and tells us he's in a hurry, that he has to go to Atlanta for the recording of Alessi's Ark's album, and that he'd stopped by Omaha because he wanted to leave us his guitar so we could use it on our record. He leaves us a Teisco, I don't remember from which year, gets back in the car promising he'd be back soon, without specifying a date. Jake is a very unpredictable person.

How did the collaboration with Enrico Gabrielli come about? How did you reconcile his input with the sound of Green Like July?

I met Enrico two years ago. He's a rare and precious musician, gifted with great intelligence, wisdom and sensitivity. I see Enrico as the Charon of "Build a Fire", the one who definitively ferried us toward something new, closing off a process of change that had begun years earlier, in the months following the recording of "Four-Legged Fortune".

We immediately clicked: we both knew where we wanted to go, even though we'd almost never talked about it explicitly. In the months before recording, rather than playing together or trying out ideas to nail down in a demo, we patiently worked on a kind of moodboard of ideas, images and colors we wanted to give the record. This took the shape of a constant exchange of emails in which we'd send each other whatever was inspiring us at the moment.

The moment we found ourselves having to give a precise shape to the record's arrangements, everything came together very naturally. We never found ourselves in disagreement, we never had to argue, and even now it surprises me, considering how hard it is to see eye to eye at such a delicate moment as recording a record.

What does the idea of change and new beginnings that runs through the songs on the record mean to you at this point in your life?

As I was telling you, it took three years to write "Build a Fire". Over that long stretch of time, a series of changes happened in my life, some positive, some negative. That's why "Build a Fire" is a record that moves at different speeds, with different moods alternating within it, sometimes openly clashing with one another. The point where the record's different souls come together and find synthesis has to be sought in the calm acceptance of the need to change and evolve.

Change also means leaving something behind. Despite the record's bright atmospheres, there's still a streak of bitterness running through it...

The sunnier songs on the record were written in a more recent period, while the less sunny ones stem from a harder, more distant time. The record's polychromy is sometimes almost disorienting. Before recording "Build A Fire" I was in a sense afraid that it would end up spanning too broad a stretch of time, making it hard to find a key to reading it. Once the work was done, it seemed to me that the record's two, or more, souls coexisted very harmoniously. In fact, I think the strength of "Build A Fire" lies precisely in its polychromy. Still, I agree with you: the tones of "Build a Fire" sometimes turn particularly bitter. "Johnny Thunders", "Good Luck Bridge", but also "Moving To The City" itself are true "j'accuse" moments.

The songs on "Build A Fire" sound more choral than in the past. Did you aim for a greater sense of shared work in building the tracks?

Compositionally, "Build A Fire" was born the same way as every Green Like July record. I arrive in the rehearsal room with lyrics and music already written. From there, we work together both on the rhythm and the arrangements. Between me and Paolo, the relationship is well established by now: we know each other well and we have our own tried-and-tested way of working. The real novelty were Marco and Roberto. Marco and Roberto grew up musically together, and that really came through during the writing process: they were very good at inhabiting the songs and making them their own.

America remains a fundamental point of reference for Green Like July's music, but on the new record the horizon widens to include other influences too. What's your relationship with the Italian musical tradition like, specifically?

I listen to a lot of Italian music. In particular, in the months before recording "Build A Fire" I listened a lot to Tenco, "Una donna per amico" by Lucio Battisti and "Io e te abbiamo perso la bussola" by Piero Ciampi. I think, to some extent, that listening echoes throughout "Build A Fire". If on "Four-Legged Fortune" the stated goal was to sound American and stray as little as possible from the American tradition, with "Build A Fire" we set no limits for ourselves. The folk foundation of the song form is certainly still there, but onto that framework all sorts of different influences have been grafted.

The album cover, once again created by Olimpia Zagnoli, suggests the idea that in life there are things that seem like insurmountable mountains but turn out to be nothing more than paper obstacles. Has it ever happened to you to be intimidated by artistic or musical choices that then turned out to be more natural than expected?

I'm not sure... The one thing that never stops intimidating me about the creative process that leads to recording an album is the recording studio itself. I'm always terrified of recording studios. To me, the studio is a moment where you have to try to recreate, as best and as spontaneously as possible, something that in fact has no spontaneity to it at all. It's a very difficult, painful and artificial process.

"Build A Fire" is getting a very warm reception. Is there any aspect of the record you hadn't realized yourself, which you discovered thanks to other people's feedback?

I'm glad the record has gotten a positive response, but above all that it's been understood. The positive reception made me realize even more that we're on the right path.

Writing in English requires a linguistic mediation that might seem at odds with the spontaneity of expression. How does your writing process usually unfold?

You start writing and composing in English for reasons that are basically stylistic, tied to the kind of music you want to play. For instance, if you want to write songs rooted in Black music, in the blues, you're inevitably drawn - at least instinctively, at first glance - to using English. It's an obvious observation, but English has a musicality that's very different from Italian's. We could even say that the reason that pushes you to sing in English is often a purely phonetic one, if not downright rhythmic.

I'm no exception: the first and second Green Like July albums are definitely the offspring of this way of thinking - records where the need to find a phonetics suited to the harmony of the songs was the main reason I chose to sing in English.

This choice, so to speak, an "aesthetic" one, has one big downside. Sooner or later you realize that, no matter how well you master the language, you'll never achieve a full, total correspondence between lyric and meaning.

Well, maybe "Build A Fire" is the Green Like July album where, lyrically, I've come closest to matching text and meaning. I say "closest" because it's inevitable that, when you sing in a language that isn't your own, even reaching a very high percentage of meaning, there's always something imponderable left over. English, moreover, is a boundless language, with different uses even within the United States alone, and it inevitably changes depending on the region. Trying to steer that imponderable factor, trying to give the lyrics as full a sense as possible, was a very tough undertaking. I won't deny that a lot of the time it took me to release this record was down to the fact that I wasn't satisfied with the lyrics - I needed to improve them, or simply let them sit for a while.

Being a perfectionist in the most pathological sense of the word, not having complete control over what I say feels like a major expressive limitation. That said, I know that singing in Italian wouldn't let me use that musicality which is the pivot around which Green Like July's songs revolve. What is a limitation on one hand is, on the other, the only possible form of expression for Green Like July: I've learned to live with this situation and accept it with peace of mind.

How do you plan to bring the new album's more elaborate sound to the stage?

We'll play the songs from "Build A Fire" as a five-piece. Since it won't be physically possible to bring along all the instruments featured on the record, in these last few weeks we've been working on reproducing the sounds using two synthesizers and a Rhodes. The songs will inevitably have a slightly different timbre, but they'll still be played with the record's arrangements.

"Build A Fire" features several notable collaborations, like the ones with Enrico Gabrielli and Jake Bellows you told us about. If you could collaborate with any artist of your choosing, past or present, who would you like to work with?

Without a doubt, Jeff Lynne. I particularly love Electric Light Orchestra, but also - and perhaps especially - the work he did in the Eighties with artists like Roy Orbison and with the George Harrison of "Cloud Nine". In my opinion, George Harrison's period from "Thirty-Three & 1/3" to "Cloud Nine" has always been very underrated. Even the critical reappraisal that's now rediscovering and revaluing George Harrison's solo work tends to fall back on the easiest, most obvious names: "All Things Must Pass" is certainly a magnificent, era-defining record, but I think the period that followed still hasn't been properly rediscovered. "Somewhere In England", for instance, is a wonderful record.

Lastly, what are your plans for the future?

The idea is to play as much as possible, at least for the next year. Maybe take the record outside Italy - I'd love that very much. After that, I think I'll need a break. Definitely a break from Green Like July. I think it's almost physiological at this point, after ten years in which my head and heart have been devoted solely to this project. As Dylan put it, ⟦Q1⟧: sometimes you get so close to things that you need to step away from them in order to give them their proper weight. I feel like I need a period of rest. Who knows, it might even lead me somewhere else.

* * *

On the side of a road, contemplating America

The hungry faces of a swarm of serious professionals press against the glass separating man from sandwich. Eyes size each other up. Mouths snap bites at the air. Hands are raised to the sky in desperate jubilation. Half of them are clutching a Blackberry." Lunch breaks, in Milan, have something feral about them in the words of Federico "Duchesne" Baccomo, author of the now-famous "Studio illegale" (first a blog, then a book, and soon a film too).

Meeting Green Like July in the middle of a Milanese lunch break means suddenly finding yourself catapulted far away from the sticky heat, the Blackberries and the anxiety of closing. Traveling toward the horizon of an America that's both imagined and real at once: the mythical America of Jimmie Rodgers and the contemporary America of Conor Oberst, merged as if by magic into one single thing.

A chat with Andrea Poggio (voice and guitar), Nicola Crivelli (bass and backing vocals) and Paolo Merlini (drums), which becomes an opportunity to share the journey of a band determined to aim for the depth of the classics, without giving up the urgency and spontaneity of their early days.

Let's start by taking a step back, to introduce yourselves to anyone who doesn't know you yet: how did Green Like July come about?

Andrea: Green Like July came about more or less in 2003, and it was just me and Nicola. Initially it started with no particular purpose, other than getting together to play and maybe try to arrange some well-known songs, Dylan or things like that. Then a small label from Alessandria, Candy Apple Records, made us an offer, and the trust they placed in us pushed us to record our first album, "May This Winter Freeze My Heart", which was also our first experience in a recording studio. It was an album we recorded over the course of a year, really dragging it out, and inevitably recording it with a lot of naivety too, starting with guitar and voice and only later getting to bass and drums, following a not-very-logical process dictated mainly by necessity and by the simple fact that the band was just me and Nicola.

As for promoting the album, it was really a non-promotion, in the sense that Nicola and I went abroad, Nicola to Southampton and me to Glasgow. In a way, that period was a kind of school for us, because we found ourselves confronting a reality where folk music is lived much more intensely, every night and every day, than it is here. As I often say, going to Glasgow was like university for me: being able to get in touch with a certain scene, realizing how strong or weak my songs were, understanding how other people wrote, comparing notes with them...

Once we came back, we tried out different lineups, until we found Paolo: the real band was born from that moment, because it was thanks to meeting Paolo, and to Nicola switching from guitar to bass, that we found our modus operandi, our way of working, which has always been based on a careful study of the rhythm section, from which the development of the song then grows.

Green Like July aren't simply an Italian band that sings in English, they're a band with a deeply American essence. What does America represent for you as a musical imaginary?

Andrea: I think America is basically the starting point of everything we listen to. I was truly raised on bread and Bob Dylan, and I make no secret of it: I apply the "what would Dylan do?" theory at every moment. Paolo grew up on jazz and Creedence Clearwater Revival, so I think America comes through strongly there too...

Nicola: We devour America decade by decade, from the Thirties, to the Sixties, to the Seventies. Maybe we're a bit biased...

Andrea: I always say it - though I think Nicola's on my side on this too: our favorite Beatle is George Harrison.

The term "Americana" is often used as a catch-all for this whole set of associations tied to America. What's your own personal definition of Americana?

Andrea: When I think of Americana, I immediately think of the Band. I don't have a better definition. When people lump us in with Americana, I think our almost single influence is really the Band. It's a melting pot of so many influences, like in "The Last Waltz": all these things brought together light the fuse of rock 'n' roll.

Nicola: The Band covered all those genres that represent Americana, from hillbilly to soul, holding on to the whole tradition while still moving through different areas. That's what I identify with Americana. Another artist who brings together many facets of Americana is T Bone Burnett: to me, his sound is what Americana sounds like right now.

What influence did the folk revival that swept America between the late Nineties and early 2000s, from Bright Eyes to Okkervil River, have on your development as a band?

Andrea: I won't deny it was a huge influence. It was like it woke me up from hibernation, as if it told me: "there's still music out there that's worth playing". We've always been very omnivorous musically, but the music we love to play is rooted in tradition. I remember the first time I listened to Bright Eyes: I was in London, I think in 2001, and I went almost by chance to a Conor Oberst show at the Shepherd's Bush Empire, just because everyone was talking about him as the classic "new Bob Dylan". I left that show stunned: I didn't think it was possible to find something like that, fresh yet traditional at the same time. Back then both Nicola and I were obsessed with the Eighties (Cure, Smiths), and we found in Bright Eyes all those little wave undertones... From there we were practically dragged by the hair into listening to the whole Saddle Creek scene, including some less traditional stuff. Okkervil River were definitely a reference point too, more in the past though than now.

Nicola: The first artist who really opened my mind to folk music was Elliott Smith...

Andrea: And Elliott Smith is that same bridge between Beatles and America that we love so much...

Your second album, “Four-Legged Fortune”, was recorded in Nebraska, with the help of some exceptional artists tied to the Saddle Creek scene, from Jake Bellows of Neva Dinova to brothers A.J. and Mike Mogis. What did that experience leave you with? How did it change you?

Nicola: We definitely changed the way we play, the way we think about music.

Andrea: I think that change also stemmed from the greater confidence we gained in ourselves, which shouldn't be confused with becoming arrogant... If anything, I think it sharpened our critical sense about certain things, but at the same time it made us realize that it's possible to make this kind of music even if you're not, quite simply, from Lincoln, Nebraska.

Nicola: Paradoxically, we found ourselves talking about roots music with people who, on the contrary, were trying to pull us toward something more indie...

Andrea: Yes, that's another aspect: we arrived in Nebraska with a very American idea in mind, but when they heard certain things they'd tell us: “Hey man, I'm not sure this is going to work...”. In a way, they were the ones bringing us back down to earth, urging us not to bite off more than we could chew.

And then, last but maybe first, what really struck us was the very fact of having gone there with a proposal that at times could leave us with a thousand doubts, thinking to ourselves: “Okay, we were born in the wrong country and we're going to their home to play the blues, to do what they chew on in every basement, in every single apartment, every single night”. And instead we realized that all our doubts, all our insecurities, were swept away with a single look: “What's the problem?”.

Nicola: Because underneath it all there's an incredible amount of respect...

Andrea: And also a passion for music. We say it often, the most exciting thing was seeing their sincerity, their ability to tell us when something wasn't working, or to appreciate it regardless of where it came from. We see much more skepticism here in Italy, when we say we play folk-rock...

How is a kind of music like yours received in Italy?

Andrea: I think the label scares people off.

Paolo: I think the main problems lie in the approach to the instrument, to the sounds. In America you arrive with a fairly clear idea of the sound you want to achieve, in Italy the approach is different.

Andrea: In Italy we're good at doing other things, we have our own musical tradition.

Nicola: The other day a friend of ours who opened a recording studio told us he realizes he wants an Italian sound, and that's fair enough: trying to get a compromise product would backfire on everyone — on a studio, on a sound engineer, and on a band that wants to play American music.

Andrea: Going back to your question, I think that in more mature circles, among people who really listen to music, labels don't scare anyone, but in more independent circles, if you will, in Italy there's a bit of fear in saying: “oh, you play folk-rock”, “oh, you play country”. I thought “Four-Legged Fortune” would be received very poorly, I didn't think we'd get positive reviews. What I can say, though, is that this wariness doesn't carry over into our live shows, in the sense that when we play live a lot of people come up to us afterward and say: “I didn't think what you do could be this much fun”.

Nicola: Our attitude, then, isn't exactly that of a country band. But there really is much more wariness among certain industry insiders than among audiences, wariness that comes beforehand, perhaps, rather than after the fact. Actually, things are changing a bit now, there's a whole new folk scene that's even more traditional than the one from the Nineties: I'm talking about Mumford & Sons, Avett Brothers... I can't really connect it that much to our record, but I feel somewhat part of that whole thing, maybe in the way we play: our record isn't that indie, it leans more toward tradition.

Often within so-called indie-folk there's a misconception that sincerity automatically coincides with lo-fi, with recording done in a bedroom or a basement. In your view, what's the key to combining this aspiration to classicism with authenticity?

Andrea: I don't think any of the three of us has ever actually liked lo-fi...

Nicola: As someone once said, lo-fi is music played brilliantly with terrible equipment.

Andrea: I don't deny the charm of certain records, like some Arab Strap albums, for instance, but I see them surviving less well compared to records that are instead recorded "well". In my opinion, records made with studio care and attention to detail inevitably carry the imprint of the era in which they were made, but they also have a less limited, more far-reaching appeal. Of course, spontaneity is harder to preserve with high fidelity: but that's exactly the great challenge. In that respect our journey has only just begun. Still, I think our approach is very different from the "bedroom" urgency: our days in the rehearsal room are days spent racking our brains over one snare hit or one bass fill too many.

Nicola: I really like the possibilities a recording studio gives you. I feel more like a writing-and-recording musician than a live one.

Paolo: Even the record we made, in my view, is still something spontaneous: after all, we only had fifteen days to do everything.

Andrea's voice has also changed a lot compared to your debut album...

Andrea: Yes, I'm struggling to find my range. On the first album my voice was very naive, though it's hard to find a singer who loves his own voice - apart from Bono from U2...

Paolo: Or Lemmy from Motorhead...

Andrea: I don't think he worries about that at all! (laughs) Anyway, for me it's a bit of a sore spot, in the sense that I'm constantly evolving, changing every six months or so... I have serious doubts about the voice I had on our first record, with all the affection I have for it.

"Four-Legged Fortune" is a record born out of a web of encounters and unexpected events: you set off with your own idea (and plenty of fears too), but through the people you met along the way your perspective changed. And in the end, unexpectedly, the result turned out to be something different from what you could have imagined at the start...

Andrea: I think it's really down to a kind of alchemy that formed, in the sense that we didn't expect to find this kind of understanding. When the recording of the album was finished, there was a moment among the three of us, A.J. Mogis and Jake Bellows where you could feel a bit of sadness and melancholy at not being able to tour together with a record we'd all helped create with passion and heart.

I think there was a lot of enjoyment on their end too. Jake is primarily a singer. I've always loved his solos, but he'd never tried his hand as a lead guitarist: it was us who pushed him a little to take on that role. The same goes for A.J.: he's a fundamentally very modest person, who tends to stay in his lane. His genius would come out if you told him: "A.J., take these two hours and give us a piano line". He'd sit down and answer: "Man, I can't play piano...". We'd go off to eat and when we came back he'd written a piano line that was incredible. And you could actually see him stroking his beard and saying: "Yeah, I'm satisfied... I like it".

This group spirit that formed in such a short time is something that surprised us too. In a way it also helped us get past the inevitable internal friction that can arise when you get to recording an album after a year of preparation, with obviously very delicate balances, ideas that need to converge. Together with them we resolved our doubts, we found a stylistic solution.

Nicola: On our part there was a bit of reverential fear, we didn't think people like that would be willing to put themselves on our level. It was a surprise to see how things changed day by day. We arrived with a very clear idea of how the songs' structures should be and with some ideas about the arrangements, but overall we gave them as our main reference point "Music From Big Pink" by the Band.

Andrea: Also, seeing it turned upside down, this initial idea of ours…

Nicola: Exactly. A few days apart we'd find ourselves having half-hour conversations with A.J., where he'd explain the ideas he had about the record, about how it should sound…

Andrea: That's why, in my opinion, this record doesn't lack spontaneity. It's a record that surprised us — some parts that we still listen back to today were put down in about ten minutes. We watched Mike Mogis's pedal steel part materialize in half an hour, and it gave “Jackson” its whole character. You can't get more spontaneous than that… Mike Mogis heard it an hour earlier, and that was it, the song was there. Actually, we don't even play it that way anymore now. Even within the high fidelity of the finished product, what's truly spontaneous is the approach to the song itself. With all due proportion, I think that was a bit like the approach Dylan had when he walked into the recording studio…

The track that closes “Four-Legged Fortune”, “St. John Of The Cross”, sounds a bit like a manifesto of some of your ideas about life and the world around you…

Andrea: Definitely, it's one of the songs on the record whose lyrics were finished last, and from there the lyrics we're working on now also developed. It really reflects the way I think about life. It's a very nostalgic track, there's a lot of me in it.

Nicola: I recognize a lot of myself in the stories told in the lyrics. We worked on it for a couple of years, and I see a lot of that period in it, the time before we met Paolo. It was also a bit of a turning point in the way Andrea writes lyrics, with more imagery, more development. We're very fond of this song, also because of the way it was arranged. I almost regret that it closes the record.

Andrea: Actually, it makes sense for it to close the record, it has a very epic sound. It's a track that was born entirely in the studio: we'd always played it with guitar, bass and drums, while in the studio we decided to give it a piano-driven character, with a very full piano progression and the bass up front.

Nicola: The funny thing is that we first heard it almost a month after we got back to Italy. We weren't quite sure how it had turned out. Maybe that's why, in the end, I've listened to it more than any other track on the record.

Tell us something about the collaboration with Olimpia Zagnoli, who did the artwork for “Four-Legged Fortune” and directed the video for “A Better Man”, which premiered a few weeks ago on the “New Yorker”?

Andrea: Actually, at first the cover was supposed to be done by English singer-songwriter Alessi's Ark, who makes drawings in a really lovely style…

Nicola: Olimpia had to adapt a lot to pull this job off, but even though the record's imagery wasn't really hers to begin with, she really managed to make it her own.

Andrea: I was sure she'd find something that got really "inside" the genre. And with the video too, I really loved the subtlety and restraint: these days it's increasingly hard to make videos that are, so to speak, "contained".

You took part in the new volume of our project OndaDrops (dedicated to the “outlaw country” scene) with a cover of Jimmie Rodgers's classic “In The Jailhouse Now”, and your Ep “Two Cover Songs By Green Like July”, in which you reinterpret John Lennon and Big Star, has just become available as a free download. In your view, what does it take to really make someone else's song your own?

Andrea: You need to play it for months, make it your own on an emotional level even before a musical one. Part of the difficulty in choosing the track to cover for OndaDrops was exactly that: with a song like “In The Jailhouse Now” it's not easy to find yourself in it, you have to give real meaning to the very words you're singing.

Paolo: In my opinion you shouldn't play someone else's song as if it were a cover, it has to come naturally. Otherwise it's just an attempt at imitation.

Nicola: Sometimes it helps not to be madly in love with a song… Otherwise it's hard to keep your distance. You need to know it first, and then get inside it.

Andrea: You have to "sweat" the song in rehearsal and through repeated listening. I think the track we picked made things a lot easier for us, because it's been covered in a thousand different ways. It gives you plenty of ideas while at the same time sparing you the reverential fear of tackling a huge artist, so you can still give your own version.

Nicola: Songs that belong to tradition give you a bit more license to turn them upside down…

Andrea recently moved to Milan: what was it like getting to know the city?

Andrea: A couple of nights ago we played in Pavia (where I lived for many years) and going back there stirred up some real emotional anxiety… I needed a change. Milan is a city in the truest sense of the word: it reminds me more of the time I lived in Glasgow. I like the depersonalizing edge Milan has, being just one among many: I hated the idea of going out and having to say hello to the baker, the newsstand guy, that person who gives you a dirty look because your hair's out of place… Taking the tram in the morning feels like a breath of fresh air to me.

To wrap up, one straightforward question: an album that changed your life.

Nicola: "All Things Must Pass" by George Harrison. I think I listened to it non-stop for three years, I'd hear it going to sleep and then put it back on in the morning.

Andrea: I don't want to give an obvious answer, but I think it's Dylan's "Blonde On Blonde". It literally turned my life upside down and it keeps doing so with every listen. Even now I'll discover, some evening, folds in "Visions Of Johanna" I'd never picked up on before, and get chills down my spine and end up in tears. I think that's what makes an album important, and Dylan really does have that quality. That said, there are albums that keep upending my life over and over, like "Electric Warrior" by T. Rex…

Paolo: I have to be honest, I'm a Rolling Stones lover. The album that floored me has always been "Sticky Fingers".

Andrea: Speaking of the Stones, over the past few months it's "Child Of The Moon" that throws my whole morning off every single day, I've got this thing about waking up to it.

Sure enough, all three of us have made some pretty "Buscadero"-ish choices… (laughs) Anyway, if I had to name things that changed my view of music in the past, I'd say Elected: "Sun Sun Sun" is an album I just can't get out of the car, I find it has an endless sensitivity and irony. Blake Sennett really has a wonderful way with words. And then "The Greatest" by Cat Power, even though it's the only album of hers I actually like…

Lunch break is over. Milan is calling. But before diving back into the city's heat, Green Like July still have one gift in store: an exclusive unreleased track, a home recording available as a free download for OndaRock readers.

It's a cover of "Wire" by English singer-songwriter Alessi's Ark (born Alessi Laurent-Marke), which Green Like July agreed to record specifically to go along with this interview.

Andrea Poggio explains the choice of song like this: "the first time I met Alessi was in London a few years ago. Alessi is a dear friend, as well as an artist of rare depth and sensitivity. I love the way she uses words and the musicality she manages to give her lyrics. And then her voice… hearing her sing is pure joy and wonder for the ears! 'Wire' is a track from her latest album 'Time Travel', recently released on Bella Union: it's a truly beautiful record and I hope it's soon discovered and gets the positive response it deserves here in Italy too".

There could be no better send-off than these stripped-back notes for voice and guitar, which bring us back to the rawer, more straightforward spirit of Green Like July.

Green Like July – Wire [download]

(Alessi’s Ark)

Ride the wave of great music

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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Gabriele Benzing, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.

Read the original in Italian · About the English edition

Green Like July on OndaRock

Discography

May This Winter Freeze My Heart (Candy Apple, 2005)	6.5
Four-Legged Fortune (Ghost, 2011)	6.5
Two Cover Songs By Green Like July (Ghost / Bad Panda, 2011)	6.5
Build A Fire (Tempesta, 2013)	7