When certain famous people die, the news leaves us stunned not simply because death is always a sorrowful event, but also because it usual means we have had some kind of connection with them.

Today, Lucio Dalla died of a heart attack, just days before his 69th birthday. It was only a few weeks ago that we saw his last San Remo performance with his own composition Nani together with Pierdavide Carone.

Many of those who grew up watching Italian TV and who love Italian music have a special fondness for Lucio Dalla. A melancholic man, who never bothered much about his scruffy appearance, he always gave me the impression that he was bewildered by life.  The poignant lyrics of his songs reflected his character, and in their simplicity they touched your heart.

To several generations he represented the kind of musical genius which only comes along once in a while.  For many, his music is interwoven with our own personal history, reminding us where we were when we first danced to Attenti al Lupo, and when we last heard the haunting chords of his epic love song, Caruso.  Few other songs can evoke such great emotion and send such shivers down your spine.

Many of us are overwhelmed by a profound sadness today, inexplicable in a way because it was not like Lucio Dalla was struck down in his prime.  In trying to understand this sorrow, I’ve concluded that it’s perhaps because for those of us of a “certain age”, each death makes us aware of our own mortality.

We are reminded once again that we are getting older, that life is so fleeting that it seems that  only yesterday we were 25 and here,  in the blink of an eye, we are middle-aged.  Similarly, I remember how my own father used to become very quiet and sentimental when one of his favourite actors or singers died.  Not only has Italian music lost a great talent, but a part of our own youth has died today as well.

Goodbye Lucio, and thank you for the beautiful music.