YsIl Balletto di Bronzo

The trap with Ys isn't a forgery — it's the reissues, which confuse buyers all by themselves. That is the paradox of one of Italian prog's great grails: a record you can hold in half a dozen near-identical pressings, only one of which is the 1972 Polydor first. The music is forty minutes of a single unbroken suite — Gianni Leone's organ snarling, a voice swinging from whisper to scream, a structure that flatly refuses to resolve into songs. Naples, 1972. And then half a century of the world making it scarce.

The history is here to explain that scarcity, not to fill space. Ys is the group's second album, released on Polydor, with music by Gianni Leone — keyboardist and voice, later a solo act as Leo Nero — and lyrics by Daina Dini. Like almost all Italian prog of the moment it was pressed in modest numbers and sold modestly; an English-sung version was begun and never finished; the band broke up in 1973. Few copies at the source, a cult built afterwards: that is the equation grails are made of. It's the record Sergio chose among our records of the month in August, with the warning that it wants to be courted, not consumed.

Musically it is exactly that: a difficult record, and part of the appeal lives there. The suite opens with the Introduzione, moves through the three Incontri and pours into the Terzo Incontro ed Epilogo; Leone stacks organ, mellotron and harpsichord into a dark, airless climb. The first time it bounces off you. Then, if you let it in, you don't get out. But the part nobody else tells well isn't this — it's how you recognise the right copy.

How to identify the 1972 Polydor first pressing. The catalogue number is 2448 003 on the sleeve and 2448 003 L on the labels (note: not 2448 006, which is not Ys). The package is a laminated gatefold with an illustrated booklet glued inside, holding lyrics and drawings. The detail that separates the first run from the rest is the label credit: the first reads "Parole e musica di N. Mazzocchi". A subtler second tell is the small English text along the label edge: on the first version it's in a narrow, Phonogram-style font; on later ones in the wider, rounded font Polydor used through the 1970s. Stamped in the side-A dead wax is ▽▽2448 003▽1=2 ⚹ 520 250572, where "520" marks the cutting location and "250572" reads as a date, 25 May 1972; the final "1" of the strings is mirrored. Rights society: S.I.A.E.

One point should be given as what it is: disputed. A second label variant adds Cristiano Minellono to the credits ("Parole di N. Mazzocchi / C. Minellono"). The common reading — backed by italianprog.com and the change of edge font — is that it's a slightly later second pressing. But several Discogs collectors challenge that account: it may be a credit revision rather than a separate run. Treat it as an open question, not a settled fact.

And above all: knowing what is NOT the original. The risk with Ys isn't fakes but reissues sold as first pressings. The most treacherous is the 1974 Italian reissue: it uses the same stampers as the original, so it sounds almost identical — but it isn't the 1972. The German copy is easy to catch, with a single (non-gatefold) sleeve and catalogue 2480 127. Then there are the Japanese (Polydor 23MM0149, with obi and insert) and Korean (Si-Wan) editions. Here is the chapter that explains half the price: Italian prog has been a Japanese collectors' obsession for decades, and it is partly their demand that pushes first pressings of Balletto, Semiramis and Area to dizzying figures. Before you spend, the Discogs master page is the best tool for comparing versions — we earn nothing by linking it, which is exactly why it belongs here: it serves you, not us.

On price we deal in orders of magnitude, because grail figures age badly: a clean Polydor first sits in the upper range of RPI collecting, from several hundred euros up, with the best copies well beyond. Completeness matters too — a copy with an intact booklet and an unstressed sleeve is worth multiples of a tired one. On a record like this, the object is as much the paper as the music inside it.

Ys asks to be earned twice: once by the listener, who needs the patience to cross it, and once by the collector, who needs the eye to recognise it. It's rare for those two labours to live in the same groove. Here they do.