Francesco De Gregori is much more than a singer-songwriter: he is a narrator of the Italian soul, a poet armed with a guitar who, for over fifty years, has told the story of our country with sharp words and timeless melodies. Nicknamed “Il Principe” (“The Prince”) for his elegant style and reserved nature, De Gregori has crossed the history of Italian music with coherence and courage, never giving in to trends. He debuted in the early 1970s in the lively environment of Folkstudio in Rome, alongside other names destined to leave a mark. Success came with Rimmel (1975), an album that marked a turning point in Italian songwriting, blending poetry, politics, and introspection. Songs like Generale, La donna cannone, or Titanic have become symbols for an entire generation. Reserved, never banal, De Gregori has always preferred to speak through his songs rather than the media. His words – enigmatic, evocative, profound – still make people reflect, feel, and debate. In an era of speed and superficiality, his music remains an invitation to slowness, to listening, to memory.
Francesco De Gregori is not just an artist: he is a necessary voice, one that continues to remind us who we are and where we come from.
Between October and November 2024, De Gregori chose an unusual starting point for his music: He performed every night for a month at Milan’s small Out Off theater, presenting lesser-known or completely unknown songs from his repertoire, with a different se...
The song of lost adolescence, never to return. Melancholy, friends leaning over the bridge with long black scarves… an entire world in just a few words.
One of De Gregori’s most intimately political songs. Between France and the fading portrait of Angela Davis on the wall. Pure poetry.
The title says it all, nothing to add. Except perhaps the wife with the heart of a baker.
How could one not include one of the greatest anti-war songs? It pairs with La guerra di Piero, though with a very different ending. But in the end, everyone comes out of war defeated, and all that remains is that lingering smell of mushroom stew.
Halfway between a revisited Marinetti and the tale of an immense tragedy, forever bearing witness to when technology gives way to nature.
