Pierpaolo Capovilla - Advice from a Bad Teacher

“I think as I please, as I can… out loud”. Taking this aphorism as a cornerstone, one can approach the self-titled album by Pierpaolo Capovilla e I Cattivi Maestri. Sure, the line just quoted is a terse remark from Celine, but if we applied Vico's notion of “historical cycles and recurrences,” no one would be scandalized to imagine it could just as well be a line from the contemporary Capovilla. Even the title of that 1937 pamphlet (“Bagatelles for a Massacre”) could pass for one of his own records.

In short, quoting Celine to open an interview with Pierpaolo isn't meant as some vain attempt at cultural credentials, but it's impossible to sidestep the countless formative references Capovilla seems to draw on for his work.

Celine is certainly among his readings, but even more so, thinking out loud is a defining trait of this artist. This album seems to capture the freest, most inspired Capovilla, one who manages to blend (to use yet another hyperbole) the social commitment of 1970s singer-songwriter tradition, the rawness of punk and noise, and the melancholy poetics of Pino Daniele. The struggle understood as the very purpose of being, the struggle as the driving force of a life that, in Pierpaolo's case, always pushes toward literary inquiry, runs through every line. A rocker from Veneto whose cosmopolitan culture never bends to compromise, who, backed by a thoroughly respectable band, lashes out against the ephemeral and against capital. Now more than ever, Pierpaolo Capovilla has plenty to say, and he says it, indeed... out loud. The advice is never to underestimate the ideas he offers.

This latest record strikes me as your angriest and most forceful yet. Is that solely down to the deep darkness the world around you has sunk into, which shaped your writing, or are there autobiographical references at play too?

I believe that autobiography and historical circumstance, in the end, can only converge along the narrative path. None of us lives alone, but together with others, in this world and in its hell.

Across the ten tracks that make up the album, there's a constant struggle between war and peace/love. Between the two factions, in the end, love seems to win out, even if at first glance it might not seem that way. Is that just an appearance?

My friend, violence always wins, damn it. Economic individualism, selfishness, mystification — in a word, Capital — have brought human civilization to a point of no return. The task I feel is mine, that I believe belongs to me, is to fight it, this violence, and to fight Capital. In the struggle lies the joy of living.

Among the tracks on the record, two struck me in particular: "Anita" and "La città del sole". The first touches on the painful issue of failed communication within a couple, while the second recalls the story of a brave man killed for defending his own ideals. They're two distant concepts, yet ones that increasingly define today's society. What would you like to add on this?

The theme of the record is, alas, war. Material war, the war of people killed, but also the inner war, the one that stops us from loving one another, and that turns life into a miserable patriarchal display of jealousy and resentment. I've always thought that life should be nothing more than an emancipation from the sense of dominance we feel,

because we do feel it, towards others. Everything, sadly, tells us exactly the opposite.

From the album cover itself, the points of reference are already clear: Christ and the hammer and sickle. Sacred and profane. Tell us about this duality.

The way I see it, there's no duality at all. As Fabrizio De André said, Jesus Christ was the greatest revolutionary in human history. He claimed that paradise, and therefore peace, had to be built right here, on Earth. That's why they crucified him. Socialism and Christianity can not only coexist, they can coincide.

You've shown on several occasions your aversion to what seem like deeply rooted social issues in this country on the edges of the empire. You've often done so through heavy use of social media. Do you see it as a tool that should support the "political" messages you evoke in your songs?

I think they're two different, separate things. In a song there's poetry, which is necessary; on social media there's polemic, which is useless. I intend to delve deeper into the former and abandon the latter. And of course, as we know, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Beyond the lyrics where you reveal your romantic side, how do you approach writing the lyrics that instead have a more social-political edge?

Studying Mayakovsky, I understood that the public and the private exist in a dialectical relationship, in the Marxist sense of the term. Poets like Mayakovsky, Yesenin, Artaud, Pasolini push me towards a kind of storytelling that celebrates this dialectical relationship. Well… at least I try.

Watching one of your live shows, I got the impression that, beyond your now well-known energy, you seemed much more at ease with this project. I sensed you were more immersed than in your previous projects, and dare I say, also with your new "bad company". What can you tell me about that?

With this band, this collective of artists, all men of worth, over the top and out of their minds, but beautiful, truly beautiful inside, I finally feel at home. We're comrades in arms, friends, brothers. It was about time! I think the audience can sense it too.

For those who play rock (unfortunately still too few in Italy), the tour is an experience that elevates all the work that goes into conceiving and creating a record. In light of this summer's dates, what's the verdict?

It's been wonderful, I want to say that loud and clear. The audience isn't exactly that of more celebrated bands, but they're attentive, moved, loving. I've felt a surprising amount of affection from everyone. I am, how shall I put it… desperately happy.

Has your multifaceted nature ever made you imagine projects for your career that aren't strictly musical? Of course, we're leaving aside the various Readings you've brought to the stage. So, among his countless interests, which one would Pierpaolo Capovilla try his hand at next?

I'll continue my political commitment to the party (I'm a member of the PCI, secretary Mauro Alboresi, but I also have ties with Rifondazione and Potere al Popolo), I'm writing a novel, and I'll have a significant role in Federico Zampaglione's next film.

In an Italian context that seems to be in a state of apathy, lacking social struggles and a real critical conscience, how much do you think your most committed lyrics, the cultural references in your songs, strike the mind and heart of those who listen to them?

Social struggles are still there, and I hope they can and will explode in the near future. The greatest ambition I hold in my heart is to be able to interpret them through the song form. There were times, I'm thinking of the Seventies, when songs played a crucial role in building a collective socialist and progressive imagination, not to say revolutionary. Class struggle, I'm convinced, is the beating heart of democracy. Rights certainly don't flourish through complacent, conformist pacification.

You're a great scholar and obviously a reader, I'd even say a popularizer. What book would you recommend we read this autumn, which promises to be a "hot" one?

I'm reading "Life and Fate" by Grossman. It's an unmatched novel, but be warned, you'll cry your eyes out. If you want a laugh instead, I can't help but recommend "Moscow-Petushki, Poems of Railroad" by Erofeev. But please, read "Dominio" by Marco D'Eramo. It's an essay from a couple of years ago, published by Feltrinelli: it's well worth it.

Finally: we asked you for literary recommendations, so now give us a few record suggestions too, since your work as a popularizer often takes the form of social media posts where you share music that I imagine reflects what you're listening to these days.

Above all, the new album by Mars Volta is a masterpiece. Bartees Strange, whom I didn't know, surprised me a great deal. And then Zidima, Del nostro abbraccio ostinato in questa crepa in dondo al mare is wonderful. And also, the new songs by Parsec are more than convincing. In the meantime, I keep listening to the early works of Pino Daniele. They make my life a little happier, even when they move me to tears.

Thank you, Pierpaolo. As always, it's interesting to hear your point of view. I think calling you a musician is too limiting to describe you and your personality. Thanks again, and see you on the road.

Thank you, brother! It's always a pleasure.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google