Bologna, August 6, 2026 – Defined by Umberto Eco as “the most cultured singer-songwriter in Italy,” Francesco Guccini is a voice that has crossed generations, a poet capable of telling the history and emotions of an entire country. With his lyrics full of poetry and reflection, he was able to transform music into literature, leaving an indelible mark on Italian musical culture. Choosing only 10 of his most famous songs is an almost impossible task, but each of them expresses a key point in the artist’s long career.
The Locomotive. From Poggio Renatico to Bologna: written in twenty minutes, it became eternal
He wrote it in just twenty minutes, then it became eternal. “The Locomotive”, published in 1972 within the album Radici, is a political anthem, one of Guccini’s most iconic ballads.
Inspired by a real event that happened in the late 19th century, the song tells the story of the anarchist engineer Pietro Rigosi, who took control of a locomotive detached from a freight train near the Poggio Renatico station, where he worked, and directed it towards the Bologna station. The technical staff diverted the locomotive’s course onto a dead-end track, where the train crashed into some stationary carriages. The impact was tremendous, and the man was thrown out of the train. He underwent the amputation of a leg and suffered serious facial injuries, but miraculously survived. The reasons that led the man to commit such an extreme act were never fully clarified, but his anarchist ideas and the statement he made after hospitalization – “What does it matter to die? Better to die than to be tied up!” – led public opinion to interpret it as an act of protest against the harsh living and working conditions of the time, as well as against the social injustice that permeated every aspect of daily life.
L’Avvelenata: autobiographical and polemical song
“But if I had foreseen all this, given cause and pretext, the current conclusions. Do you think that for these four pennies, this glory for assholes (to sit!), I would have written songs”: autobiographical and polemical song, “L’Avvelenata”, included in the album Via Paolo Fabbri, 43 from 1976, expresses Guccini’s disappointment towards the criticisms received on the 1974 album Stanze di vita quotidiana.
It was performed live for the first time and the critic Riccardo Bertoncelli, mentioned in the lyrics, continued to be a reference in the song, despite the two having later reconciled. The song was then recorded only after numerous requests from the audience, who particularly appreciated it during live concerts. To this day, it is undoubtedly one of Guccini’s best-known songs, which fans continue to appreciate.
Dio è Morto: appreciated by Pope Paul VI
A protest song expressing distrust towards institutions and established values:
“Dio è morto” (God is Dead), written in 1965, is a manifestation of the profound changes taking place in society at the time. The song addresses existential and social themes, reflecting the disorientation of a generation in a crisis of values and marking a manifestation of change and hope for a better future.
“I saw people my age walking away along roads that lead nowhere, seeking the dream that leads to madness, in search of something they do not find, in the world they already have.”
Although it contains no elements against religion, the song was censored by Rai, which considered it blasphemous because of its title and content, deciding not to broadcast it. But on the contrary, it was appreciated by Pope Paul VI, who saw hope in Guccini’s song because “in what we believe God has risen, in what we want God has risen, in what we will do God has risen…”. And so it happened that the song censored by Rai was instead broadcast by Radio Vatican.
In 1967, two versions were recorded, one by Nomadi (which was very successful) and one sung by Caterina Caselli, with some variations in the lyrics.
The Old Man and the Child: a significant song
Contained in the album Radici from 1972, “The Old Man and the Child” is one of Francesco Guccini’s most famous songs and represents one of the most significant tracks of his career. With his poetic style, Guccini addresses the theme of generational passage, telling a dialogue between an old man and a child, who find themselves reflecting on a society marked by fear and destruction: “An old man and a child took each other by the hand and went together towards the evening,
the red dust rose far away,” the first verse of the song, is the emblem of the song’s meaning. In the following verses, the old man tells the child how beautiful that vast plain once was. The child, as Guccini sings at the end of the song, “remained, his gaze was sad, and his eyes looked at things never seen before and then said to the old man with a dreamy voice: ‘I like fairy tales, tell me more!’”
Eskimo: youth years and relationship with first wife
Included in the album Amerigo from 1978, “Eskimo” is a song that tells about the youth years spent in Bologna and the relationship with Roberta, his first wife. The title alludes to the social class difference between the two young people: she, coming from a bourgeois background and wearing an elegant coat, and he, with humbler origins, wore an “innocent eskimo, dictated only by poverty”.
The singer-songwriter had already dedicated to her, in 1970, the song Vedi cara, another famous success still dear to fans today. The title of Guccini’s biography written by Massimo Cotto, “I then wore an innocent Eskimo,” published in 2007 by Giunti Editore, is also taken from the lyrics of this song.
Farewell: inspired by Bob Dylan
“Farewell,” Goodbye. Inspired by Bob Dylan’s Farewell Angelina, from which an entire verse is quoted, Guccini dedicated this song, published in 1993, to his partner, Angela, with whom he had recently separated. In the song, Guccini retraces the entire arc of a relationship, set to folk ballad music.
The final verse of the song is perhaps one of the most famous and melancholic quotes of the singer-songwriter: “But every story has the same illusion, its conclusion / And the sin was to believe a normal story was special.”
Bologna: the singer-songwriter dedicates it to “his” city
Born in Modena, but Bolognese by belonging. Francesco Guccini could not fail to dedicate a song to “his” city, which he describes with affection and irony. He tells its peculiarities, its flaws, the glimpses that only those who have truly lived it can grasp.
For Guccini Bologna is an “old lady with somewhat soft hips,” but also an “Emilian woman with strong cheekbones.” Bologna is capable of love as well as death.
She is a rich lady who was once a peasant, a well-behaved child, a vulgar matron.
Bologna is the navel of everything.
Autogrill: a fleeting encounter, symbol of transience
“The girl behind the counter mixed light beer and Seven-up, and the smile with dimples and teeth was like an advertisement, like the faces on the walls of that small autogrill, while my secret dreams were drowned out by the roar of the trucks…”. This song from the 1983 album “Guccini,” the singer-songwriter’s eleventh studio album, tells of a fleeting encounter in an autogrill, symbolizing the transience and randomness of human relationships. Guccini masterfully describes the suspended atmosphere of these places of passage, reflecting on loneliness and the desire for connection.
Cirano: a contemporary social critique
Published in 1996 in his 17th album “D’amore, di morte e di altre sciocchezze,” Francesco Guccini’s song “Cyrano” is a contemporary social critique inspired by the famous novel by Edmond Rostand, written at the end of the 19th century.
Written by Beppe Dati and musically arranged by producer Giancarlo Bigazzi, the song uses the figure of Cyrano to carry out a profound critical analysis of contemporary society, expressing a fierce invective against the political class. The words, sharp and harsh, soften in the end, when the image of the beloved Rossana, who in the song has the image of the sun, emerges, bringing a moment of sweetness and hope.
Via Paolo Fabbri 43: Guccini’s Bologna
It gives the title to his seventh album, published in 1976 and twenty-ninth in Rolling Stone’s list of the hundred best Italian albums: Via Paolo Fabbri 43, Guccini’s Bolognese address, offers a snapshot of the artist’s Bolognese life, between personal reflections and observations on the surrounding world. “Between ‘krapfen’ and ‘boiate’ the strange hours flew by, the fat bus chases me along the avenue and dawn is a punch in the face towards which I stretch my arms, the world explodes outside Porta San Vitale and in via Petroni they wake up, prepare books and coffee and I dance with Snoopy and Linus an Argentine tango with the helmet.”
