Perturbazione and the art of reworking (other people’s) songs

Tommaso Cerasuolo discusses ‘Risuona’, the album on which the Piedmontese band reworks ten international songs. From the lessons of De André to the metre of ‘Only You’

10 OCT 26
Translated by AI
Image of Perturbazione and the art of reworking (other people’s) songs

Disturbance, photo by Luigi De Palma

“Translating a song is a balancing act: whilst on the one hand you try to preserve tradition, on the other you have to betray it a little.” This is how Tommaso Cerasuolo describes “Risuona”, Perturbazione’s new album due for release on 9 October via The Saifam Group. Two years on from their live tribute to Fabrizio De André’s “La Buona Novella”, the band from Rivoli – active since 1988, from “Agosto” to their Sanremo success with “L’unica” – returns with an album of adaptations and rewrites in which ten international tracks are translated and re-explored in Italian.
The album was preceded by the single ‘Quel che non ho più’, a reinterpretation of Yazoo’s ‘Only You’ (1982), in which the famous metaphor of the window and the glass separating two ex-lovers becomes the cornerstone of a new narrative sensibility. This approach rejects the shortcuts of major pop hits to delve into a catalogue of memories and affection. A complex work in terms of metre and language, where Italian imposes its own rules and rhythm. “The challenge was precisely not to make an album of famous songs by translating them, but rather to revisit the catalogue we grew up with musically,” explains Cerasuolo, lead singer of the Rivoli-based band.
In the 1960s, British hits were adapted purely out of linguistic necessity. Now that we all understand English, when does such ‘betrayal’ become an artistic choice?
It is a positive form of adaptation, a pact between the original author and your own stylistic voice. From a legal perspective, it is interesting: if you produce a cover version, you can alter the arrangement as much as you like, provided you credit the author and the rights remain with them. If you produce a translation, however, you must send the text to the rights holder to request permission to publish.
And from the perspective of the passage’s narrative, what changes?
That is where the narrative work comes into play. For example, in ‘Only You’, it does not actually say ‘I call your name’, but ‘It’s like a story of love, can you hear me?’. I added the idea that she is calling his name because it sounded good—because it ‘resonates’—and it works. It is a play on vowels and sounds, while remaining faithful to the meaning, mood and atmosphere of the piece.
The Italian tradition of adaptations includes Adriano Celentano and Gianni Morandi, but also a ‘noble father’ such as Fabrizio De André.
There have been some excellent examples, such as De André and the others you mentioned, which have sometimes stood the test of time better than the originals. However, there have also been instances of significant distortion.
For example?
One notable example is Renato Zero, who in the 1970s covered Supertramp’s ‘Dreamer’ and transformed the dreamer of the original into ‘Sgualdrina’. This represents a decidedly extreme semantic shift. It is an aspect of the song’s history that we often recount during our live concerts, engaging audiences with such anecdotes.
Two years ago, you staged "La Buona Novella", which later became an album. What did Italian metre teach you when tackling other people’s repertoire?
The key lesson is that a large number of discarded attempts are necessary to ultimately arrive at ten songs that work. The process resembles a kind of alchemy governed by almost magical rules. The chorus is consistently the most critical section on which to focus.
Is the rigidity of the Italian language a limitation or a creative advantage?
Translators must always bear in mind the deeper meaning of the lyrics. There are entire online communities, such as SongMeanings, where listeners debate obscure passages. For example, there are hundreds of different interpretations of the Eagles’ “Hotel California”. When one sets about translating, it is impossible to include them all. You have to choose one – presumably the one that sings best, fits the metre and, indeed, ‘resonates’.
In “Quel che non ho più”, how far did you stray from “Only You” to find your own voice and give the original track a new meaning?
The result was surprising; the translation often took shape from phrases in the original text. The presence of clear Italian references, without being excessive, is notable, and the passage ultimately acquires its own distinct character.
How were the tracks for “Risuona” selected? You’ve chosen cult indie-rock tracks from the early 2000s, ranging from Interpol to Notwist.
These are all artists who have shaped our cultural landscape. However, the decision is also based on a practical consideration: translating a major commercial hit is extremely difficult precisely because the public is all too familiar with it. It works well, on the other hand, with songs that have become less firmly established in the collective imagination. The only one among these ten that has enjoyed commercial success is ‘Only You’ by Yazoo. But we’re still talking about something that remains latent in the collective memory; it hasn’t been ‘re-recorded’ to that extent.
How did this album come about, in relation to your recent journey?
“The imagination is a strange place, where it rains inside,” said Italo Calvino. One does not know exactly what one is doing whilst doing it, but looking at the work from a distance, I realised that ‘Risuona’ seems like the ideal follow-up to our 2020 album, ‘Disamore’. That was a complex album, which suffered from being released in the midst of the Covid pandemic, but one in which we believed wholeheartedly.
Is there a common thread linking these ten rewrites?
On the one hand, there is love – that something which resonates within us for a long time, even when it seems to have gone. Then there is absence. It is that reality we all have to learn to live with when a romance ends or when we lose loved ones. As we grow older, absence becomes fundamental, and how to deal with it is the central theme of many of these songs. We came to understand all this whilst making the album.
Looking back, in 2014 you took part in the Sanremo Festival with “L’unica”. Would you be interested in returning there today?
It depends very much on what you’re doing and the ‘vibe’ surrounding your project at that particular moment. One is merely a cog in a machine: one might be useful at that moment, or one might create the most beautiful thing in the world but not fit in with that artistic direction. Everyone aims to write the right song, but there are so many variables involved in being in the right place at the right time. Today I am watching Sanremo from the sofa with my daughter Emma, and we are enjoying ourselves immensely.
What memories do you have of that experience?
For me, it was a thrilling and engaging experience. I was fortunate enough to live it as part of a team, a group of people working together, rather than on my own. It was chaotic and dizzying, but I would do it all again in a heartbeat.
Will you be taking “Risuona” on tour?
Following the special acoustic performances, accompanied by a chat about the album in Milan, Turin and Rome, a preview show is scheduled for Saturday 7 November at the Teatro Magda Olivero in Saluzzo. The main tour, taking in clubs and theatres, will then run from January to March, with dates to be announced shortly. The band is eager to perform the material live once more.