{"product_id":"blues-30-anniversary","title":"BLUES - 30° ANIVERSARIO","description":"\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cspan face=\"Arial Narrow, sans-serif\" style=\"font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan size=\"4\" style=\"font-size: large;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eBLUES - 30° ANNIVERSARY\u003c\/strong\u003e (\u003cspan\u003eCVLD395\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan face=\"Arial Narrow, sans-serif\" style=\"font-family: 'Arial Narrow', sans-serif;\"\u003e\u003cspan size=\"4\" style=\"font-size: large;\"\u003e)\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eAuthor\u003c\/strong\u003e: \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan id=\"autore\"\u003eAA.VV.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cspan\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ePerformer\u003c\/strong\u003e: \u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan id=\"esecutore\"\u003eAA.VV.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003ch3\u003eAvailable on: LP, HD File\u003c\/h3\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"text-decoration: underline;\"\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eTracks\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cul\u003e\n\u003cli\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSIDE A – 18:12\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e01 – So Long (F.Ranghiero, F.Mazzaron) 7:32 \/ rec. 03-2008\u003cbr\u003eFour Fried Fish\u003cbr\u003e02 – Five Short Minutes (J. Croce) 3:23 \/ rec. 07-2012\u003cbr\u003eBarbara Belloni, vocals\u003cbr\u003eFour Fried Fish\u003cbr\u003e03 – Tin Roof Blues (L. Roppolo, P. Mares, B. Pollack) 3:14 \/ rec. 10-2000\u003cbr\u003eTiger Dixie Band\u003cbr\u003e04 – I Ain’t Got Nothin’ But The Blues (D. Ellington) 3:59 \/ rec. 10-2005\u003cbr\u003eCristina Sartori, vocals\u003cbr\u003eStefano Lionello, double bass\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003c\/ul\u003e\n\u003cul\u003e\n\u003cli\u003e\n\u003cstrong\u003eSIDE B – 19:33\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e- 01 – Rollin’ Stone (Mc Kinley Morganfield) 5:18 \/ rec. 03-2008\u003cbr\u003eFour Fried Fish\u003cbr\u003e- 02 - Freedom (R. Ford) 6:52 \/ rec. 03-2018\u003cbr\u003eMichele Giacomazzi, guitar Francesco Giacomelli, electric bass\u003cbr\u003eDiego Vergari, drums\u003cbr\u003e- 03 – Come Together (J. Lennon, P. McCartney) 3:36 \/ rec. 01-2010\u003cbr\u003eYasmina and Bad Songs\u003cbr\u003e- 04 – Cross Road Blues (R. Johnson) 3:46 \/ rec. 07-2023\u003cbr\u003eMax Prandi, vocals and guitar\u003cbr\u003eEnrico Merlin, guitar\u003c\/li\u003e\n\u003c\/ul\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e1\/4\" Analog Master created at VLS studio in Naquera (Spain), starting from original analog and digital recordings, the latter made in native high resolution, PCM wav 88.2kHz \/ 24bit\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cbr\u003eProduction: VELUT LUNA\u003cbr\u003eExecutive Producer: Marco Lincetto\u003cbr\u003eRecording Engineer: Marco Lincetto\u003cbr\u003eMixing and Mastering: Marco Lincetto\u003cbr\u003eInterior Photography: Marco Lincetto\u003cbr\u003eGraphic Design: Maurizio Ciato for Studio L'Image\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt was the first of July 2009.\u003cbr\u003eWe decided to leave Memphis early, eight, eight-thirty in the morning; because around those parts, at that time, the heat kills you. Humid, so much so that as soon as you step out onto the street you're already soaked in sweat, even if it's early morning.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe first stop was relatively close, Clarksdale, the moral capital of the Mississippi Delta, the moral capital of the Blues. One hundred and twenty-five kilometers all along the legendary Highway 61: yes, the one Bob Dylan also sang about, even if he meant it in the opposite direction to us, from south to north.\u003cbr\u003eOn the asphalt in front of our white Ford van, the road, already scorching from the sun, made imaginary images, mirages of reflection, appear on the horizon. And with us there was nothing, no one, only parched fields to the right and left.\u003cbr\u003eAround half past ten we finally saw the arrow indicating the turn-off for Clarksdale, and we took it.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe town seemed deserted, the streets stretched out desolate amidst rows of decidedly run-down wooden houses, with the varied African-American population already exhausted in the scant shade of dilapidated arcades that had certainly seen better days. And my feeling was strange, inscrutable, even if decidedly restless, perhaps also because of those looks, not threatening, but rather astonished, that looked at the decidedly anomalous body that was me and my six friends inside that white Ford van, too clean, modern and untouched, which definitely clashed in that context.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eAfter a while, the little houses ended and we found ourselves, so to speak, \"downtown\": four or five-story buildings, also somewhat decrepit, stretching within a few squared blocks. And without a single tree, so the sun had free rein to wipe out the few remaining sentiments.\u003cbr\u003eWe turned right, then right again, then left: and John Lee Hooker Lane appeared: it's the short street that leads to the Delta Blues Museum, the temple of the Blues.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eNow, we Europeans are used to a concept of \"museum\" that involves austere, polished monumental buildings, with armed guards for access, cameras and all the paraphernalia of control...\u003cbr\u003eThere, none of that.\u003cbr\u003eA low, discreetly maintained red brick building, built next to an old abandoned railway line, with rusty tracks, and a canopy with the rusty sign \"Delta Blues Museum\" underneath it.\u003cbr\u003eIn museums you expect a quiet movement of attentive and discreet patrons, perhaps with the classic joyful and somewhat noisy school group: there, again, none of that. Deserted. No one. Just us.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe exhibition was entirely structured within a single large hall, with a ceiling not as high as you would expect. And what was exhibited were common memorabilia: a few \"belonging to\" instruments, a few trinkets, many photographs, historical and otherwise, very beautiful, I must say.\u003cbr\u003eAnd little else.\u003cbr\u003eThe tour ended quickly, but the previous restlessness, instead of subsiding, increased. There was SOMETHING I couldn't focus on. At one point, I heard the rhythmic sound of drums, like someone practicing a few passages. It came from the entrance area, but distant, from below, perhaps from some obscure cellar. I would never find out who or where it was.\u003cbr\u003eAt that point, however, I noticed an old, a really old, African-American man, sitting behind the counter of what looked like a bar; he was distractedly reading a crumpled newspaper, while savoring a noxious cigarette, the smell, the stench, decidedly strong for someone like me, who doesn't smoke.\u003cbr\u003eIt immediately and naturally came to me, from deep within, the urge, the need, to ask him a question that had been buzzing in my head for many years, related to one of the most famous legends of the blues, which tells how one fine day in the late 1920s, Robert Johnson, who was a poor cotton picker with no art or skill, in the countryside near Clarksdale met the Devil – yes, that very one – who proposed a pact: he, the Devil, would guarantee him success in exchange for his soul. And Johnson accepted. And the rest of the story is known.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eWell, that's when the question came to me, and opening my mouth with an uncertain demeanor, I asked the old man: \"Can you tell me where the Devil's Crossroads and Robert Johnson's are?\"\u003cbr\u003eThe old man didn't bat an eyelid... but he raised it, imperceptibly, while simultaneously lowering his newspaper, sizing me up in silence. A silence that lasted a few eternal seconds, in which time had actually stopped. Then, parting his lips wet with sweat and parched by smoke, he told me: \u003cstrong\u003e\"Hey guy... It's Everywhere...!\"\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd in that moment, for the first time in my life, I understood what the word \"Blues\" meant.\u003cbr\u003eAnd the sense of uneasiness disappeared in the dangerous grin that appeared on the old man's impassive face.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThe musicians and I are fortunate people, to have been privileged to experience these emotions that are very difficult to put into words, but which I hope can at least be conveyed a little by the sound tracks left in the grooves of the records. Forever.\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003eThanks to everyone,\u003cbr\u003eMarco Lincetto\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp class=\"western\" lang=\"en-US\"\u003e\u003cem\u003e\u003cstrong\u003eI dedicate this project to that old African-American with the newspaper,\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cstrong\u003ewho finally made me understand what the BLUES is.\u003c\/strong\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/em\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Velut Luna","offers":[{"title":"LP 33 rpm","offer_id":50751696503131,"sku":"CVLD395LP","price":49.0,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":true},{"title":"ARCHIVO HD 88.2kHz • 24bit","offer_id":50751696535899,"sku":"CVLD395","price":18.0,"currency_code":"EUR","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0575\/1016\/6580\/files\/CVLD395-cover.jpg?v=1749210813","url":"https:\/\/www.referencemusicstore.com\/es\/products\/blues-30-anniversary","provider":"Reference Music Store","version":"1.0","type":"link"}