Storia di un impiegato is Fabrizio De André's fourth and last concept album, and as such it closes an essential period of his career. In many ways a transition album, e André's himself acknowledged it failed to reach the heights of his previous two masterpieces La buona novella and Non al denaro non all'amore nè al cielo. As its title proclaims, Storia di un impiegato tells the story of a nameless, ordinary clerk whose political conscience is awakened while listening to a five-year old French song from May '68. The clerk realizes all his life he has been a conformist, selfish non-entity, and decides it is high time to join the fray. After a series of bizarre delusional nightmares, he attempts to blow up the Parliament, fails ludicrously, and ends up in jail. Ironically, once a prisoner he finally achieves his dream of becoming part of a collective. The most overtly political of De André's albums, it was released at a time of exacerbated internal turmoil in Italy, torn by terrorism and state repression, as well as economic crisis and generational conflict. Almost inevitably in such a charged atmosphere, the album's concept and recording was marred by dissent between De André and his collaborators, writer iuseppe Bentivoglio, producer oberto Dané and composer icola Piovani, over the general direction the project should follow. Dané and Bentivoglio wanted an all-out Marxist analysis of class conflict, while De André was more interested in the protagonist's psychology. The resulting product is a mixed bag. On the one hand, some tracks (especially the recitatives) are guilty of a heavy-handed ideological thrust that sounds now outdated and pretentious. On the other, the best songs exude a vital sense of anger, sorrow, and remorse that ranks them among e André's finest. For instance, "Introduzione/Canzone del maggio" (liberally adapted from a May '68 French protest song) is a killer opening, a rollicking attack on all those who preferred to look the other way while riots were taking place right in front of their noses. Full of outrage and venom, this song is the closest De André will sound to Phil Ochs or ob Dylan (in fact, even if it precedes it by two years, in its bite it is very reminiscent of the latter's "Hurricane"). At the other end of the album, "Verrano a chiederti del nosto amore" is arguably the most devastating love song De André ever wrote --which should say it all. Furthermore, the entire album is strengthened by excellent sequencing, which creates a flowing, overall listening experience that may amount to more than the sum of its parts. An imperfect but thoroughly compelling album, Storia di un impiegato remains a worthy addition to De André's impeccable catalog.