ANCONA, ITALY–"You may find it hard to believe, but we are the number one group in this country."
      Mauro Pagani's modesty was unnecessary in view of his group's performance, but understandable considering its nationality. The members of Premiata Forneria Marconi know that it will be difficult to convince Americans and Britons to give serious consideration to a progressive rock group from a country best known musically for Giuseppe Verdi and Domenico Modugno.
      Named after a bakery in Northern Italy, the five-man band showcases instrumental as well as vocal passages, the spotlight falling on Pagani's violin and woodwind solos and Flavio Premoli's dashing about between synthesizer and keyboards. These trademarks haven't changed much during the group's two-year life, but a new ingredient has been added: vocals in English.
       Singing in the foreign tongue was considered a requisite for breaking beyond the Italian market, which in volume equals New York City at best, so the group's manager journeyed to London bearing the Per Un Amico album. Pete Sinfield and Greg Lake were impressed, and Lake signed them to Emerson Lake & Plamer's Manticore label, and Sinfield agreed to produce and write English lyrics. The quintet was christened PFM for Britain and America.
      "We had admired King Crimson and Pete Sinfield so much," Pagani marveled, "and then one year later he agreed to help us. Well, you can imagine!"
      What was difficult to envisage was the two weeks the group spent learning to pronounce Sinfield's words. Pagani had picked up English from talking to tourists and reading album notes, but for the remaining four the experience was a phonetic ordeal. Premoli is now also bilingual, but everyone else still requires an interpreter.
      The group's strongest concert number, "Celebration," contains only four lines, focusing on the band's instrumental prowess. It was issued as a single in Europe and England with a full-color illustrated sleeve.
       "Did you see the picture on the single, the one with the woman without dress?" Premoli asked. "For Spain we had to paint on a bikini before they let it into the country!" He erupted in laughter, but Pagani was more serious on the subject. "The movement here is very close because there are many problems with the government," he explained, "but it's not as bad as in Spain."
      His use of the term "the movement" was not gratuitous, because he takes his politics seriously, relating stories of alleged corruption within the government, the Vatican and the record industry. He is one of the occasional residents of a castle-cum-commune in Sicily and follows whatever alternative reading matter is available.
      "It's too bad Oz had to stop," he non-sequitured at one point. "I was just reading the issue with the full page picture of the girl (the School Kids issue for which Oz was busted). I'm reading Jerry Rubin's book, the title translates to We Are Many People."
      Pagani's rock influences are non-Italian as well, and it was he who changed PFM's orientation. Before he joined the group it was known as Quelli. It had more success as a session band than an act, playing on over three-fourths of Italian pop hits. Now PFM's favorite bands include Jethro Tull, Yes, Colosseum, King Crimson and Gentle Giant. When it was pointed out to one member of the band that he was wearing a Tempest sweatshirt, he laughed at the seeming incongruity.
      But the sweatshirt was a symbol of PFM's determination to break the English market. 'If we make it, we have a great opportunity to introduce our country's groups to the world," Pagani stated with conviction. "You see, although you've never heard of them, there are other good groups in Italy too."