Album Review: "Immigration and Love Songs" by Lorenzo Belli
Alright, let’s get into this. Lorenzo Belli’s Immigration and Love Songs is one of those albums that kinda sneaks up on you. Released in 2019 under the label Psalmus Diuersae, it's a jazz record—but not your typical smooth, background-music type deal. This is free improvisation all the way, which means things can get wild, messy, and super raw. And honestly? That’s what makes it so damn interesting.
The whole album revolves around five tracks titled "no baby! why baby!" with Roman numerals slapped at the end (I through V). Yeah, creative naming isn’t exactly Belli’s strong suit here, but hey, who needs fancy titles when the music speaks for itself? The vibe feels like someone sat down at their instrument and just let loose—no rules, no script, just pure emotion pouring out.
Let me tell ya about two tracks that stuck with me. First off, there’s “no baby! why baby! II.” It starts off quiet, almost hesitant, like Belli’s testing the waters before diving in headfirst. Then BAM—it kicks into this chaotic swirl of notes that feel both frantic and deliberate at the same time. You know how sometimes you’re trying to explain something but don’t have the words? That’s what this track feels like—a musical version of flailing your arms while shouting, “You just don’t get it!” I couldn’t stop thinking about it after the first listen.
Then there’s “no baby! why baby! IV,” which goes completely the other direction. This one’s slower, moodier, almost brooding. There are these long pauses between phrases where you think maybe the song’s over—but nope, it keeps creeping back in. It’s haunting, man. Like walking through an empty house late at night and hearing creaks you can’t explain. By the time it ended, I was half-convinced my cat was staring at me funny because of it.
What I love most about this album is how unapologetically human it feels. Free improvisation doesn’t always land for everyone, but Belli pulls it off because he leans hard into the imperfections. Nothing sounds polished or forced; instead, it’s like eavesdropping on his brain as he processes life, love, and immigration—all those big themes tucked into weird little packages of sound.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this made me realize how much we box music into categories. Is this even jazz? Who cares! Labels aside, Immigration and Love Songs is proof that good art doesn’t need to fit neatly into a genre or follow some formula. Sometimes it’s just… whatever comes out when you hit record.
Anyway, give it a shot if you’re into stuff that challenges you. Or if you hate it, well, more power to ya. Either way, Lorenzo Belli probably wouldn’t lose sleep over it—he seems like the kind of guy who’d laugh and say, “Cool, cool, keep living your best life.”
