Zucchero’s Spirito DiVino turned 30 this year. It came out on May 27, 1995, and it’s one of the first albums I can remember hearing. My dad used to play it on CD during car rides, and over time it just got burned into my memory. The sound of this record - bluesy, weird, emotional - has always stuck with me. I’ve gone through a lot of phases musically, but this one never lost its weight.
 

I picked up the 30th anniversary box set. It comes with two clear vinyl LPs (Italian and international versions), two CDs, a 7” single with Per Colpa Di Chi? remixes, a photo booklet, and a set of coasters with original artwork. My copy is hand-numbered 063/500. The layout and visuals feel like they came straight out of the mid-90s in the best way - sunflowers, roosters, religious iconography, classic Zucchero chaos.
 

The real surprise was the original Spirito DiVino songbook. I didn’t even know it existed. It includes all the lyrics, chord charts, and a signed message from Zucchero on the first page. There’s even a nod to the old floppy disk version. I somehow managed to get the last one available online.
 

The album was recorded between October 1994 and March 1995 at A&M Studios in Hollywood, the Boiler Room in New Orleans, and Umbi Studios in Modena. You can hear all three locations in the mix. The blues and gospel influence from New Orleans is everywhere, but it’s filtered through Zucchero’s songwriting and humor. This album doesn’t sound like anything else.

Here are the tracks that hit the hardest for me:

O.L.S.M.M. (Organizzazione Laica per la Salvaguardia e la Manutenzione dei Matrimoni)

Zucchero going full attitude. The lyrics are sarcastic, possessive, and funny in a bitter kind of way. Lines like “non si toccano i miei sogni” and “non desiderare di godere nei suoi occhi” hit like warnings. It’s a jealous anthem with teeth, but it grooves hard. I brought this track to my 8th grade music class in 2007 for a breakdown assignment. It was the first time I ever tried to explain why a song mattered to me.

Voodoo Voodoo

This one kicks the door open. It’s sweaty, loud, and full of tension. The lyrics are packed with phrases like “Lascia che il mio Voodoo lavori,” “latte di letto,” and “che fra le gambe scalpita.” It’s part seduction, part frustration, with backing vocals and percussion that sound like they came out of a Louisiana church on fire. One of the most alive tracks on the record.

Datemi una pompa

Totally unhinged in the best way. The chorus gets stuck in your head, but the verses are where it starts getting strange. Zucchero drops lines like “mi sento un palloncino,” “voglio cantare col nonno Pino,” and “che ho tanto freddo e mi sono perduto.” It’s goofy and theatrical on the surface, but underneath there’s this real sense of pressure, fatigue, and wanting to break free. It’s absurd but it works.

Pane e Sale

A slow burn. Spiritual, reflective, and heavy without being dramatic. The lyrics move like a tide. “E mangio pane / Pane e sale” sets the tone, but the repetition of “Il mattino / Come un fiume / Dopo la piena” gives the track its pulse. The song just sits in the moment. No rush, no flash, just release. It hits harder as you get older.
 

Every track on Spirito DiVino has a purpose. It’s emotional without being cheesy, funny without being dumb, and spiritual without being self-important. Zucchero found a balance here between gospel, blues, Italian songwriting, and his own kind of mischief that no one else really pulls off. It’s weird, human, and real.

This album was always in my life, but this year I finally took the time to sit with it again. The box set is beautiful. The songbook is something I’ll probably never see again. And the music still holds up better than most things that came out after it. If you’ve never heard this record, fix that.

I put together a short IG reel showing the box and songbook. You can find that on my page, @zadarofficial.exe.

Thanks for reading.
Antonio G

~ZADAR