Milano

In Milan, time stretches like a sigh between the streets of a city that breathes jazz and nostalgia. Lucio Dalla does not merely sing about the Lombard capital; he turns it into another character in the song: its irregular rhythms, that sway between melody and abruptness, mirror the ordered chaos of an urban heartbeat that pulses to the rhythm of improvisation. The song unfolds with a cadence reminiscent of those nighttime strolls where every corner holds a different story, and Dalla’s voice — rough, playful, rich in nuances — intertwines with the saxophones and clarinets that peek through the chords. It is not a song about Milan, but a song from Milan: with its lights and shadows, its bustle and sudden silences.The recording was born at a pivotal moment for Dalla.

In 1979, when the album Lucio Dalla was released, he had already moved beyond his literary collaborations with Roberto Roversi and was solidifying his status as a singer-songwriter in the truest sense. The Stone Castle studios in Carimate — a place where sound filtered through brick and wood walls — became the perfect setting to capture that blend of jazz, soul, and Italian songwriting that defined him. Produced by Alessandro Colombini and Renzo Cremonini, the record — alongside Come è profondo il mare (1977) and Dalla (1980) — is part of what critics dubbed the “trilogy of maturity”: three works that marked a before and after in his career, both in sales and influence.

Two tracks recorded during those same sessions were left off the final cut, as if chance had decided which stories deserved to remain.