Litfiba

Foreword

Heroes of the Italian new wave of the 80s, who then shifted in the 90s toward hard rock, becoming perhaps the most famous Italian rock band ever, Litfiba have always stood out for the distinctiveness of Piero Pelù's lyrics, which — through the inevitable ups and downs of any career — have sketched a personal worldview, traceable all the way back to their earliest days, in songs long lost to time and never recovered on official releases.

From their earliest live shows, and later in their first albums, Piero Pelù's political views come through clearly. In various interviews Pelù has said he read the American writer John Steinbeck, poet of the downtrodden and the oppressed, Emilio Salgari, the celebrated author of adventure novels marked by a strong anti-colonialist streak, and the French surrealist poet Jacques Prévert, who likely influenced him both in the hermeticism of some of his lyrics and in his unconventional, polemical verve. To these one could add the reading of Erich Maria Remarque, which probably shaped his pronounced anti-militarism.

Against War

This self-taught – non-academic – background draws him close to anarchist, anti-militarist thinking (“Guerra”, “Ferito”, “Prima guardia”), anti-colonialist themes (“Santiago”, “Woda Woda”), and peoples who are victims of genocide (“Tex”, “Sparami”). This emerges, with varying results, across much of his career.
According to Pelù, war has nothing glorious, courageous or honourable about it (“Eroi nel vento”); it's seen only for what it is: a business for a privileged minority of the wealthy (“A Satana”, “Oro nero”).
Especially in the early years, the lyrics are often hermetic. Rather than stating something plainly, they evoke ideas, throwing out images to be interpreted as in a dream. It's precisely the ambiguous lyrics of one of the band's early tracks, “Luna” (“Sarò un re e un dittatore”), meant to denounce human greed, that led groups of skinheads to turn up at some concerts without really grasping the Florentine band's actual message. From the 1990s onward, the lyrics become far more direct and simplified, inevitably losing some of their allure.

Against nations

Pelù's fundamental pessimism is almost always evident: he's sceptical that humanity can really make the world better. Man is perceived as a greedy creature seeking only power at the expense of the weak (“La preda”), and nations inevitably do the same, doing nothing but multiplying to the nth degree the harm a single man could cause (“Luna”, “Vendetta”, “Sulla Terra”, “Cangaçeiro”, “Santiago”). This disenchantment with nations and nationalism draws him close to the ideas of the internationalist left (“No frontiere”) and to revolutionaries (“Cangaçeiro”), showing solidarity with peoples forced to emigrate because of colonialism (“Africa”).
In the very early 1990s (perhaps the only moment of genuine optimism), Pelù openly sided with the magistrates of the Tangentopoli scandal (“Dimmi il nome”, “Maudit”). Anyone who lived through those years firsthand knows how topical those songs sounded in 1993. It's a long story that, year after year, has lost some of its coherence, but which, at least from the 80s through to the early 90s, lets us trace common threads even across very different albums. It's within this tangle of lyrics that we'll try to navigate, in search of a reading key we can all agree on.

The early singles (1980-1984)

A Satana (1980)

The front of corpses devours everything living, and Satan the master leads his cart of human heads

It sounds like the title of a proto-black metal record, yet “A Satana” is actually the first song written by the Tuscan band, played live in 1980 and 1981. Only low-quality recordings survive, but this is a highly aggressive punk track, dominated by Antonio Aiazzi's keyboards, in which Piero Pelù introduces anti-militarist lyrics. Satan is nothing more than whoever pushes by any means towards war, master of armies ready to turn humanity into “nuclear cockroaches”.

Luna (1982)

Sarò un Re e un dittatore

Pure Italian new wave, “Luna” is a 1982 track that was decidedly futuristic for our country at the time, later revisited in a masterful version on the live album “12.05.1987 – Aprite i vostri occhi”. Piero Pelù's lyrics tackle human greed and the desire to push past every possible limit at the expense of the common good. The Moon to be conquered thus represents a will to dominate that can only lead to catastrophe.

Guerra (1982)

I look beyond the glass wall at the army marching past

Written in 1982 and featured on the Florentine band's first EP, later included in a different version as the closing track of “Desaparecido”, “Guerra” is one of Pelù's earliest pacifist manifestos. There's no humanity in the soldiers: they're “black men” without faces or eyes, ushered in by initial SS-like screams over martial percussion and oppressive keyboards. Even the words “I look beyond the glass wall” seem to anticipate the horror of war as seen on TV, which becomes more and more the curse of our times with each passing day. A post-punk prophecy.

The trilogy of power (1985-1988)

Desaparecido (1985)

La preda (1983)

You thought you were the hunter, but now you're the prey

First released in 1983 as a 7" single alongside “Luna” and later in a very different version on “Desaparecido” (1985), “La preda” is the most overtly hard rock track from Litfiba's early years, and it can be read in two different ways. On one hand, it's described as Piero's conflict with his father, who tried to discourage him from pursuing music; on the other, the lyrics clearly work as a metaphor for human life itself, an endless conflict that breeds only violence and domination. Whoever thinks they're the hunter is, in fact, also the prey, and vice versa. It's a theme dear to Pelù that, as we'll see, resurfaces in various other songs in the years to come.

Eroe nel vento (1985)

Betraying and fleeing is the memory that will remain

The opening track of the landmark album “Desaparecido”, “Eroe nel vento” is one of Litfiba's most celebrated songs, as well as one of the clearest statements of Pelù's anti-war stance. The post-punk music underscores the nihilism of the lyrics, which reject any rhetoric of heroism for soldiers, portraying them instead as mere victims of a runaway machine that leads them to slaughter. There's no glory or heroism in war, only boredom, pain and desolation. In 1992, a voice-and-guitar version closer to the hard rock sound of that era of Litfiba appeared on “Sogno ribelle”.

A new wave landmark. 17 Re (1986)

Ferito (1986)

Great white chief wants cannon fodder and wants it beautiful to die together

“Ferito”, the track tasked with closing an album as pivotal to Italian new wave as “17 Re”, with its martial rhythms, guitar effects and Velemir Dugina's violin, is the most forcefully anti-militarist song in the Florentine band's catalogue, and the one that best sums up Pelù's views on war. This time the subject is a lone soldier (no longer the army of eyeless black soldiers from “Guerra”), a victim of the orders of a “great white chief” sending him to slaughter. A sort of post-punk counterpart to “La guerra di Piero”, “Ferito” foregrounds the senselessness of war, which only becomes clear to its victim in the final moment — lying on the ground, mortally wounded, realizing he has only minutes left to live and that, in the end, he's been deceived and stripped of everything. The ending, with the word “Ferito” repeated dozens of times, is the most tragic and moving moment Piero Pelù has ever written.

Vendetta (1986)

I met God playing with the sky, forgetting the air, the fire and the day

One of the most metaphor-laden lyrics Pelù has ever written, “Vendetta” opens with imagery evoking creation itself (night and day, lightning and fire, air, sand), which frames the birth of man. This meditation on the relationship between man and religion imagines an absent God, lost in contemplation of his own wonders (“I met God playing with the sky, forgetting the air, the fire and the day”), indifferent to the fleeting nature of human life (“People are air”). Abandoned by God, man is left with nothing but violence and selfishness (“You know, I know, a hundred thousand other acts of revenge I shall see”) as the only weapon to achieve his own desires.

Sulla Terra (1986)

Every man hopes to rule, lives for this and kills for even less

One of the most openly pessimistic songs by Litfiba. A universal message that spans every human age, in which man is perpetually at the mercy of his own instincts, chasing dominance and power, which appear to be the only true desire of men and nations alike. Perhaps only those who betray this innate desire, the Judas of the first verse, can offer an alternative to violence. For Pelù, power is rotten, and it turns men into animals fighting one another. A slow, dark rhythm that finally dissolves into a long, textbook new wave coda.

Oro nero (1986)

Il sangue serve solo a pulire

Still more pessimism and disillusionment in "Oro nero", another song about man's thirst for dominance, this time driven by oil, the new gold that pushes entire peoples to slaughter one another without remorse. The setting shifts to the East, as in "Istanbul", a land ravaged precisely because of its oil, which becomes a pretext for invasion by every world power and brings only division and hatred. Men, depicted as hyenas, use blood to wash away their own sins in an escalation of violence with no possible end.

Come un Dio (1986)

Come Dio vi farei morire di paura promettendo l’inferno o la pietà

One of the key compositions on "17 Re", later revisited in the definitive, magnificent version on "Pirata" in 1987, "Come un Dio" is another dialogue between man and God (like "Vendetta"), a reflection on how man makes use of religion. The fear of divine punishment, looming over every man, has been a tool of domination in every age. The use made of religion can thus be twofold: on one hand, a healthy reflection on one's own existence; on the other, a means of keeping social classes unchanged, of dominating and manipulating the subjugated masses of the poor. A powerful track with an iconic ending that became a manifesto of 1980s Italy.

Il live perfetto. Aprite i vostri occhi (1987)

Vendette/Luna (1987)

It's always easier when someone else does the thinking for us, because it's too hard to think for ourselves

This 1987 medley, taken from the live album "Aprite i vostri occhi", is probably the high point of Litfiba's career, the moment that best captures the band's talent at its absolute peak, where Pelù's musical and theatrical sides coexist magnificently. A full seventeen minutes of improvisation, psychedelic rhythms, screams and spoken-word delivery, split between the first part, "Vendette", drawn from "17 Re", which revisits the theme of the violence inherent to the human soul already explored in "Sulla Terra". After about five minutes, the medley opens up into the sprawling improvisation of "Luna", utterly transformed from the 1982 single. Pelù's screams are as shamanic as they've ever been in his career: a long prophecy ("Avete bisogno di un dittatore") wrapped in a bleak pessimism that outlines the future with startling foresight and clarity.

Dedicato a Willie Jasper Darden. Litfiba 3 (1988)

Santiago (1988)

Dittatura e religione fanno l’orgia sul balcone

"Litfiba 3" is a political album from the cover onward. It features Willie Jasper Darden, an African American man executed in the electric chair in Florida on March 15, 1988, despite serious doubts about his guilt and countless international protests and pleas for clemency from numerous public figures. The track "Louisiana" is dedicated to him.
"Santiago", the opening track of "Litfiba 3", is one of Litfiba's most politically explicit songs. No cryptic lyrics, no room for interpretation, just words that go straight to the point. The capital of Chile was the setting for one of the most shameful episodes in United States history. Pelù is referring to the coup of September 11, 1973, in which then-US President Richard Nixon decided to bomb the Chilean presidential palace, killing the legitimate president Salvador Allende to make way for the brutal dictator Pinochet. Despite the incalculable number of opponents murdered, disappeared, exiled, arrested without trial and tortured (various reports put the figure at around one hundred thousand), Pope John Paul II visited Chile in 1987, meeting with Pinochet and even appearing on the balcony of the Palacio de la Moneda alongside the dictator general. Hence Pelù's famous line: "Dittatura e religione fanno l’orgia sul balcone" ("Dictatorship and religion have an orgy on the balcony"). For the Florentine band, the city of Santiago thus becomes a universal symbol both of repression and of the betrayal of the Chilean people's legitimate aspirations by Western powers (first the United States, then the Vatican). The fast, driving rhythms evoke chaos and confusion, that of a people left with nothing left to believe in.

Tex (1988)

Your freedom, we already had it

One of the most celebrated songs in Litfiba's discography, a fixture of every live show, revisited in 1990 with the single "Tex 90" (1990), then included in a slightly longer version on the compilation "Sogno ribelle" (1992). The theme of the genocide of Native Americans feels particularly relevant today, accustomed as we are to hearing constant talk of wars for freedom ("Your freedom, we already had it"). A track that fully anticipates Litfiba's 90s sound, becoming an anthem listened to, but never fully understood, generation after generation.

Revolution and Freedom. Pirata (1989)

Cangaçeiro (1989)

I'll tell you who I stand for, you say who you stand for, you have to shout it to the world so the world will know

Between the late 19th and early 20th century, in Brazil's Sertão region, the phenomenon of the cangaço emerged: a violent protest against the Brazilian government, dominated by landowners who condemned much of the population to starvation, imposing working conditions not far removed from slavery, despite the latter having been formally abolished. The cangaceiros thus embodied the hope of a revolution capable of overturning the power of the coronéis ("colonels"). Naturally, Pelù tells us: "Se la terra è tonda e se il mare è blu, da che mondo è mondo il forte vince e non sei tu", bearing witness to the impossibility of truly changing a state of affairs that seems immutable. What matters, in order to preserve one's own humanity, is always standing on the right side — the side of the downtrodden fighting to rise back up ("I'll tell you who I stand for, you say who you stand for, you have to shout it to the world so the world will know").

Il vento (1989)

Remember Tiananmen

"Il vento", released only in a live version on "Pirata", is one of those tracks in which Pelù explores the theme of freedom. He has done so on other occasions too, for instance in "Corri", "Siamo umani", "Resisti" or "Linea d'ombra", but never so poetically. In a world where every regime restricts individual freedom in every possible way, the wind becomes a metaphor for something that cannot be locked in any cage. To truly feel free, then, one must be like the wind: pure and without borders (once again Pelù restates, in metaphorical form, his opposition to the idea of states with impassable borders).
Musically, it's one of the most evocative and poetic moments in the entire discography of the Florentine band, the last gem of the 1980s. In the 1990s everything would change: from a niche band known mainly in France, Litfiba would become the most famous rock band in Italy. And, as always happens, mass success would come at a price.

The Tetralogy of the Elements and the Turning Point of the 90s (1990-1997)

Fire. El Diablo (1990)

Woda Woda (1990)

The white man steals and steals, then he's gone, but Saint Peter in the desert is his disease

1990, with the release of "El Diablo", is the year Litfiba explode in popularity. Suddenly everyone knows the band: radio stations flood their playlists with tracks like "El Diablo", "Gioconda" and "Proibito". Among these, "Woda Woda" also enjoys a fair amount of success. Woda in Polish and voda in Russian mean "water", and once again Pelù tackles the theme of Western colonialism, which strips the poorest countries of every resource, even the one most essential to life. The white man who exploits Africa's riches, only to leave once he's plundered everything, is so blinded by his own sense of superiority that he feels no empathy whatsoever toward the peoples he subjugates. The religious message of equality and brotherhood is thus so distorted that it turns into an outright pathology ("But Saint Peter in the desert is his disease"). Religion thus becomes a tool of domination rather than of comfort or truth ("There's no use praying, the skin hurts").

The Earth. Terremoto (1993)

Dimmi il nome (1993)

It's not hunger but ignorance that kills!

Tangentopoli officially begins on February 17, 1992, when public prosecutor Antonio Di Pietro has engineer Mario Chiesa, president of the Pio Albergo Trivulzio, arrested. Shortly after come the Capaci massacre (May 23, 1992) and the Via D'Amelio massacre (July 19, 1992), which claim the lives of Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino respectively. From that moment on, in an unstoppable domino effect, Italy lives through at least two years in which, every day, all the news broadcasts report new arrests and new investigations into politics, bribery, the mafia and corruption.
In this climate of anger and desire for renewal, Litfiba step in with their new, aggressive sound, decisively hard rock, and with direct lyrics that go straight to the point, leaving no room for possible interpretation, unlike what had happened in the '80s. The monolithic (almost metal) riff of "Dimmi il nome", which opens "Terremoto", immediately makes the new direction clear, drawing a parallel between politics and the mafia ("Mezzogiorno di fuoco e sangue tra famiglie onorabili") and openly siding with Di Pietro and the Milan Public Prosecutor's Office ("Dentro i colpevoli e fuori i nomi").
Anyone who lived through those years firsthand cannot help but remember how much Litfiba represented, in some ways, a true soundtrack to that period of change, tapping into an ideological affinity with a large part of the Italian public and thereby contributing to the explosion of their fame.

Maudit (1993)

Di notte voglio ballare nella televisione, truccarmi da pallone e poi raccontarvi tutto

"Maudit" is the natural continuation of "Dimmi il nome", this time in a broader context, focused on the great state secrets that are never told, except in films that were barely distributed, now forgotten, or in books doomed to oblivion. From the Mattei case to the Moro murder, from the Portella della Ginestra massacre to the killing of Salvatore Giuliano, from Michele Sindona's cyanide-laced coffee to Gaspare Pisciotta's strychnine-laced one, all the way to Licio Gelli and the "bankers of God", Italy's unresolved mysteries are countless. Piero Pelù, in his own way, tackles this subject through a hard rock track that works well and probably prompted some listeners to dig deeper into affairs that have by now almost completely vanished from mainstream media attention.

Prima guardia (1993)

Trasforma il tuo fucile in un gesto più civile

An anti-militarist track built on the hard rock sound of "Terremoto" and one of Litfiba's most famous songs, "Prima guardia" deals with military service, seen by Pelù as a legalized theft of a year from every man's life. The flag becomes a cage in which generation after generation have always been trapped ("Uomo col fucile, prigioniero della tua bandiera"), confirming the band's ideological hostility toward any notion of nation. "Trecentosessantacinque croci", sings Piero in this small anti-militarist anthem, which fits perfectly into the mosaic of songs making up his legacy against war, which, after all, is also born from the indoctrination into weapons and nationalism inherent in military service.

Colpo di coda (1994)

Africa (1994)

Africa, Africa in Europa

First released on the live album "Colpo di coda" (1994), "Africa" is one of the band's most explicitly pro-immigration songs, opposed to the first stirrings of racism already present in the political propaganda of the time. Tribal rhythms and distorted guitars accompany lyrics that call for putting oneself in others' shoes in order to coexist without hatred ("Se è buono quel che è buono, e male quel che è male, ognuno ha una ragione per condannare").
Once again, borders between nations are seen as a limitation on individual freedom that must be torn down. A few months later a studio version would be released, featuring more elaborate lyrics, but overall less effective and immediate than the live one.

The Air. Spirito (1995)

No frontiere (1995)

Among the stars of the bear and the dolphin, there are people who live loving what they have and not hating what they will never have

1995 is the year of "Spirito", an LP that's more lighthearted compared to the previous "Terremoto". Aside from the references to Berlusconi found in "Tammuria" ("Se un dittatore dal nuovo balcone spaccia in Tv la gioia"), the track that most fully continues Pelù's ideological path is "No frontiere", another internationalist, anti-racist piece in his discography. The lyrics are poetic and dreamlike, the music slow and evocative: gone are the invectives and the distorted guitars of "Terremoto". "No frontiere" is a mental journey into infinity, where it's possible to forget everyday miseries and imagine worlds in which equality is the foundation of every form of coexistence.

L'acqua. Mondi sommersi (1997)

Si può (1997)

I commit myself fully to changing the world I have, and it's the only law I have

By 1997, Litfiba are already a very different band from the one that started out. On "Mondi sommersi", an LP that doesn't match its predecessors but is still better than what would follow, a few points of contact with the past can be found in small details where Pelù draws links to earlier lyrics. There's no interpretive difficulty left: Pelù has by now simplified his language to the utmost, making it understandable to everyone. And given that his audience has grown so vast as to include people with no knowledge whatsoever of the band's 80s records, this was perhaps the only possible choice.
"Si può" is a fairly typical song from the post-"Terremoto" Litfiba: a simple track, suited to a mainstream audience and, all things considered, negligible, yet worth noting because it effectively sums up the path Pelù has always tried to follow, despite the many obstacles life brings and the mistakes any of us can make ("Mi impegno fino in fondo per cambiare il mondo che ho, ed è la sola legge che ho").

Sparami (1997)

Shoot me, shoot me, I'll always be less than what you think

The best track on "Mondi sommersi" is undoubtedly "Sparami", clearly influenced by the grunge sounds that dominated the 90s. Dedicated to the Palestinians of Gaza, "Sparami" praises the resistance of a battered people who, after decades of aggression and abuse, are still standing before their oppressor, refusing to bow their heads despite endless suffering. If with "Guerra" we talked about a post-punk prophecy, here we can talk about a grunge prophecy.

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