Italian
Francesco Guccini, Italian writer and singer-songwriter, passed away yesterday at the age of 86. He suffered from a severe form of degenerative maculopathy that prevented him from reading
Italy – He has told the story of Bologna, Emilia, Italy, and much more. He has written a lot, especially songs that have been crucial in the lives of many young people, for generations.
He was suffering from a severe form of bilateral maculopathy, a degenerative disease that affects vision. “I can see to walk but only to a certain extent, and so I can no longer read. I can use the computer because it enlarges the letters and I can also write. But how I miss reading a book! I have audiobooks, but it’s not the same thing.”
The family
The news of his death was announced yesterday by the family: “This morning, in Pavana, surrounded by the love of his wife Raffaella, his daughter Teresa, and family members, Francesco Guccini passed away at the age of 86. In accordance with his wishes, the funeral will take place in the coming days and will be strictly private. The family, while asking that this moment of sorrow be experienced in the closest intimacy, thanks in advance all those who will join in his mourning with affection, discretion, and respect. To allow those who loved him to remember and say goodbye, a commemorative ceremony will be organized in September.”
Respecting the family’s grief and dissociating ourselves from the political controversies that arose following his passing, we remember him with one of his songs, one of the first if not the first, that he wrote and recorded in 1960, at the age of 20. The track “L’Antisociale” was later brought to success in 1966 by Equipe 84. The original lyrics were changed multiple times for censorship reasons.
I’m an antisocial type, I never care about anything
I don’t care about people’s judgments
I naturally hate every moral hypocrisy
I hate wars and armaments in general
I hate the taste of rhetoric, the economic miracle
The permanent and lasting value
Prize radios, carousels, TV cinema, radio, rallies
Fridge and car, there’s no Ford in my future
And you dreamy girls of the actresses’ life
Stay away from me
I don’t like to be nice, to put on a face that suits
In the end, I’m always broke
I hate modern life filled with scandals and debts
The noise, the busy intellectuals
I hate the flashy guys enchanted by sports cars
With clothes and shirts all the same
Who only know how to talk about cars and fashion
About summer adventures in the mountains and at the sea
Empty and full of self-importance if the outfit doesn’t fit right
While I wear whatever I like
I’m without wealth, I’m against marriage
I don’t have what you call a place in the sun
I don’t like the high society ladies, I prefer the socialites
Because to be honest, they are the only ones
I don’t like the lawyer, the bourgeois, the upstart
I hate the good and honest family man
Almost always worried about seeing me settled down
If I start making love to his daughter
I’m an antisocial type, I don’t want to do anything
All the people are getting on my nerves
I want to go live on a deserted island
And no one will be able to disturb me anymore
And no one will be able to disturb me anymore
And no one will be able to disturb me anymore
I don’t love living with all the people, I only like the “good” people
As it is commonly said: “You are born good, you don’t become good”
Some are born for sciences or for the arts
I was born only for the parties la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
I love to talk badly, to be a pig with the girls
On Easter I go to confession and they all go crazy for me
Because among the “good” it doesn’t matter the abstinence
As long as there is only the appearance la la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
So I don’t care for my intelligence, people don’t connect well with this
But the charity baskets always know everything about the latest “Witch”
Intelligence only exists with millions
And I admire the films of Monica and Antonioni la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
I am elegant and it goes without saying that my garments are always well-kept
Because it is certainly important to dress well, for it is the robe that makes the monk
In the end, two things matter
And they are the bank account and elegance la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
We go crazy for cocktails and parties, I love social women beyond measure
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about “those”, being with people lower down feels wrong
I have no relations with the proletarians
Only late at night along the avenues la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
But I do not neglect the humanistic science and it can be said that I am engaged
In fact, sometimes I am a communist, but I have not always been interested
The class struggle only serves to make a good impression in society la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
I can’t say I’m clerical, like Boccaccio I love to laugh at the friars
But I always pay my respects to Uncle Cardinal and go to mass on holy days
My creed I tell you briefly
To think about what people might say la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
The “good” people are my true homeland, the “good” people are my only God
The only thing I’ve always dreamed of, the only thing I want
Is just to be good always and now and everything else can go to hell la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
La la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
