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Adelmo
Fornaciari, better known as Zucchero, was born on September 25, 1955, in
Roncocesi, a small village near Reggio Emilia. He received his nickname at
school, when a teacher called him “zucchero” — sugar — because of his gentle,
kind nature. It was a name he would later embrace as his stage identity,
though in his youth he had no idea he would one day become one of the most
influential Italian musicians in the world. He grew up in a modest
working‑class family, where music wasn’t a luxury but a refuge. His
father worked long hours, his mother kept the household running, and Adelmo
found his own world in the records he could get his hands on: blues, soul,
gospel, American roots music. These sounds came from far beyond his village,
yet they gave him a sense that he belonged somewhere else.
As a teenager, he began playing guitar and tried to imitate the sounds of
his heroes. He listened to Otis Redding, Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, and
the great bluesmen. He felt that their music did something he rarely heard in
Italy: it spoke directly to the heart, without filters. That was what he
wanted too. He formed small bands, played at local parties and bars, and
discovered that he had a voice unlike those of his peers. Rougher, deeper,
more lived‑in. A voice that didn’t match his age, but certainly matched
his soul.
In the 1970s he moved to Forte dei Marmi, where he met musicians who took
him more seriously than ever before. He began writing songs, sometimes in Italian,
sometimes in English, and slowly but surely he found his own style. But it
wasn’t until the 1980s that he truly broke through. His early albums received
some attention, but it was “Donne” that introduced Zucchero to the Italian
masses. The song was playful, rhythmic, and unlike anything else in the
Italian charts at the time. It gave him his first taste of national fame, but
he knew he had much more to offer.
His real breakthrough came with the 1987 album Blue’s, where he fully merged
his love of blues and soul with Italian melodies. The album included songs
like “Senza una donna,” which later became a worldwide hit in its
international version with Paul Young. This was the period in which Zucchero
found his voice — not only musically, but personally. He began experimenting
with arrangements, working with international musicians, and daring to be
fully himself. His music grew warmer, deeper, more emotional.
In 1989 he released Oro Incenso & Birra, an album often considered one
of the greatest Italian albums of all time. It featured songs like
“Diamante,” a touching tribute to his grandmother, and “Il mare impetuoso al
tramonto salì sulla luna e dietro una tendina di stelle…,” a title only
Zucchero could dream up. The album was an explosion of creativity,
spirituality, and musical richness. It brought him success not only in Italy
but across Europe. He became an artist who crossed borders — geographically
and musically.
Zucchero’s international ambitions took him to the United States, where he
worked with legends such as Eric Clapton, Miles Davis, and B.B. King. His
collaboration with King led to the song “Hey Man,” and later to “Dune Mosse,”
where the blues icon’s guitar intertwined with Zucchero’s voice. It was a
dream come true for the boy from Roncocesi who once listened to American
records as if they were messages from another universe.
In 1992, Zucchero became the first Western artist allowed to perform at the
Kremlin after the fall of the Soviet Union. It was a symbolic moment: an
Italian blues singer standing in Moscow, singing for an audience hungry for
new sounds. His music proved universal, regardless of language or culture. He
demonstrated this again in 1994 with “Miserere,” a duet with Luciano
Pavarotti. It was an unusual pairing — the blues singer and the opera legend
— but it worked because Zucchero always sought emotion, the human core of
music. Pavarotti later said that Zucchero was one of the few artists who
truly moved him.
In the years that followed, Zucchero continued to experiment. He released
albums such as Spirito DiVino, featuring songs like “Il volo” and “X colpa di
chi?”, where humor, spirituality, and blues blended seamlessly. He kept
collaborating with international artists, including Bono, Sting, Sheryl Crow,
and John Lee Hooker. His music grew richer, more layered, more global — yet
always recognizable through his voice: warm, gritty, full of life.
One of his biggest international successes came in 2004 with “Baila (Sexy
Thing),” a song that stormed charts across Europe. It was energetic,
danceable, and unmistakably Zucchero. It proved that despite his deep roots
in the blues, he could embrace pop and rock without losing his identity.
Around the same time he released “Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometime,” a cover
he completely transformed, once again showing how naturally he could
translate emotion into music.
Zucchero’s life also had darker chapters. His marriage ended, he struggled
with periods of loneliness and doubt, and he lost people who shaped him. But
time and again he found his way back through music. The 2006 album Fly
included songs like “Occhi,” where he revealed his vulnerability, and “Un
kilo,” where he rediscovered his playfulness. He kept performing, traveling,
writing, and searching for new ways to express his feelings through
melody.
In 2010 he released Chocabeck, an album deeply influenced by his childhood
in Emilia. The title refers to a dialect word his father used when there was
nothing to eat: “chocabeck,” the sound of an empty beak. The album was a
return to his roots, both musically and emotionally. It showed that despite
his global success, Zucchero remained deeply connected to where he came
from.
His later albums, such as Black Cat and D.O.C., reveal an artist who is
still evolving, still taking risks, still believing in the power of music.
“Partigiano Reggiano” brought him back to the history of his region, while
“Voci” and “Freedom” showed that even in his seventies he hasn’t lost an
ounce of energy. He continues to perform in massive stadiums as well as
intimate venues, where his voice perhaps shines even brighter.
What makes Zucchero unique is his ability to blend genres without ever
sounding forced. He can sing a blues song that feels like it came straight
from the Mississippi Delta, and then deliver an Italian ballad that seems to
rise directly from the heart. He can mix gospel, rock, funk, soul, and pop
into something only he could create. His music is a bridge between worlds,
between cultures, between emotions.
But perhaps his greatest strength is that he always remains human. He sings
about love, loss, longing, hope, and pain in a way anyone can understand. His
voice carries the marks of his life: the highs, the disappointments, the
battles, the victories. He is an artist unafraid to show himself, even when
that means revealing his vulnerability.
Zucchero Fornaciari is more than a musician. He is a storyteller, a
traveler, a seeker. He is the man who brought the blues to Italy and Italy to
the world. A man who received his nickname because he was sweet, yet built a
career on rawness, honesty, and emotion. His music keeps evolving, but his
heart remains the same: warm, open, and eager to connect.
And as long as he keeps singing, that heart will continue to echo in every
note. |
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