I don't know very much about Tony Renis. I could read up, I would have the tools, maybe not the time, but in any case I am already taken for strange when I sing "I went to cent'allora", let alone if I begin to get to know Renis's discography, bibliography, mess-ups and intrigues.
But the fixation of "when when when" is a catchphrase.
It is a transversal fixed. It goes from childhood vacation memories in which this years production felt at the ball '60/'70 (thanks to my mother, thanks to my father, thanks to the red and black Philips domination of my sister….
Domain intended as a generic synonym of possession or ownership, not as the name of a website ... better to specify it for digital natives). Then we move on to the time when one of my bosses hummed it to criticize my unlikely arrival times at work, to then arrive at the discovery of the discoveries, the Remix. Not modern stuff, but the “Disco When” remix.
Dated 1978, we see (thanks, Youtube!) a Tony Renis much less polished than the covers of vinyl of the 60s, but as always alive. The play back does not scandalize, the guitar played pretend is not a problem, the plastic and the dynamics are not ridiculous parts of a fake performance.
That's the performance.
This is the real span of superiority, which makes certain comments on the figure of Renis as unpleasant as stepping on a butt in summer with flip flops. Renis is not pretending, not boasting. Rather, he idealizes, iconizes, synthesizes. Professional is in his suit and tie, because in a suit and tie you go to work and he works, damn it. So, just like all professionals, he commits himself and sweats, like all those who took the "show" as a job, because that is, from Corrado a Pippo Baudo a Mike, all to work.
It's not like today, where the arrival thinks about the effect (the fame) and not the cause (the sweat). The easy money, the initial exploit on which to live on an income, a-constancy, a-professionalism…. A bit like a certain politics, not all of it, in which the seats of power have passed from the rear of the constituent fathers to those of Cicciolina (applause, at this point).
From the show for the public to the management of public affairs, that is from the jet set to the Parliament, pollution has no limits, but only common denominators.
Long live Tony!
DJ Mazzanti Viendalmare
