Francesco De Gregori went through a spell in the '80s when he failed to deliver the sort of absolute classics that populated his '70s records.

This is not to say, however, that he was making weak albums.

Mira Mare 19.4.89 is the best example of both these two seemingly opposite statements.

While several of these songs became concert favorites, none remotely achieved the popularity of De Gregori's best-known songs.

Yet, this is arguably his strongest album of the decade, after the masterpiece Titanic.

Compared to the patchwork feel of his last two albums, Scacchi e Tarocchi and Terra di Nessuno, Mira Mare 19.4.89 makes for a more cohesive, compelling statement, both in its sound and in its thematic.

Its peaks may not soar as high as " "La Storia" or "I Matti," but these nine tracks unfold with no discernible dips in quality or tone.

The album is dominated by a sense of rightful anger at the current state of affairs, as De Gregori takes a deep look at an Italian society that seems to be rotting away at all its angles.

Widespread corruption ("Dr.

Doberman"), lack of ethics and ideology ("Pentathlon"), a sense of impending disaster ("Cose"), mindless exploitation of natural and human resources ("Carne di Pappagallo") and, above all, the certainty of an all-conquering numbing stupidity taking control over our world ("Bambini Venite Parvulos") permeate from virtually every single track of this surprisingly strong, overlooked collection.

De Gregori would continue along the same lines on Canzoni D'Amore, the superb follow-up to Mira Mare 19.4.89 that does everything this album does -- and tops it.