AA. VV.
imola in musica 2017

Unbearable heat and a triumph of accordions, even the Bakunin rest home has its piece of "Imola in musica". And, while the kisses of my favorite grandmas fly in the air, crazy conga lines led by the entertainers weave through the crowded wheelchairs. This would be work, since I'm there as an entertainer, and I also have to take care of the final piadina. After all, it's food and music that excite my elderly, so piadina it is, no doubt...

At the end of the line, the last cigarette with colleagues... and then outside... and in the street, tango lesson: fabulous long-haired teachers and overheated ladies who absorb their words as if it were an iced cocktail. I manage to catch a few dance moves, but it seems as if the sun is melting them or maybe it's melting me.

Then, on the way to the shower, the sounds come from everywhere... and this is one of the most beautiful sensations of this event (Imola in musica, about a hundred concerts and small concerts in a week) that has been going on for twenty-two years.

Under my house, they're setting up the stage for the alternative rock night, but my plans are different: in Piazza Matteotti there's P.F.M. Miss Luludia adores "Impressioni di settembre" and I still keep like a relic the knock-off cassette of "Live in Usa" bought at twelve with my pocket money. And, if you want to know, I'll tell you that in honor of old times I still listen to it from time to time.

Sparkling white wine and margherita pizza, in the distance "Mr. Tambourine Man" hummed by a sweet busker girl. Then the news that Juve is way down in the Champions final: wonderful!!! The football goddess of revenge takes on a crazy Dylan-like strangeness, though it's hard to picture Ronaldo as Mr. Tambourine. So I blow a kiss to the girl now singing "Sound of silence" and, in my eyes, she's the one who won the Champions, never mind the damn merengues.

Then we should (or should have) head to see Premiata, but Miss Luludia is a muy folk type and so a small flute nails her to a most disheveled group dance. I can't resist her joy and only after three or four songs do I finally decide to pull her away from her dream world. We reach the square just as they start "Impressioni di settembre", another little arrow that the intoxicated Cupid (who has been following us for a while) shoots for us.

I even start to sing: "And light my thoughts fly and go and I'm almost afraid they might get lost"... then the holy moog. Right after, Di Cioccio talks about "Photos of ghost" and, citing Sinfield and Crimson, endangers my old heart.

Then it happens that we get bored, I don't know, there's no energy, and then, apologizing to the child I was, I suggest to my beautiful to leave. It's fine with her, they've already played "Impressioni di settembre". We enjoy a bit more folk, then move on to a small reggae band that, helped by a couple of gin and tonics, I enjoy immensely. (Note, I'm by far the oldest in the crowd)...all is well...

All is well... and anyway, goodnight...

The next day starts again with African dances under my house... with the little grandma walking by, setting down her shopping bag, and dancing along too…

And, in the evening, the Acquaragia drom, a dream that has traveled through millions of roads with a cheeky smile and the joyful boastfulness of those who have nothing in their pockets but joy, fooling around... and tradition…

Tradition whose tree has roots in Balkan music, in tammurriate and Sinti tarantellas, in Roma songs, in Greek rebetiko, in wedding dances. You should know that by now the one writing to you is convinced that true rock'n'roll is exactly something like this.

Today dedicated to a song form that may remind of some of Capossela's works (although perhaps it's actually Capossela's works that remind of theirs since these are people who have been playing together for over thirty years), they still manage to blow everyone away live with their super fast folk.

And Sunday the first thing Miss Luludia and I learned is the usefulness of an apotropaic chant. And the song in question is "Ussa sa", a track that talks about a gentleman who had never seen that part of the female body that is usually hidden, and when one day from afar he believes to see it, fabulous and enormous, on that very day he dies from the effort made trying to reach it. Contrary to what it might seem, it seems that singing this song actually helps to see that hidden thing and that hidden thing in Roma language is called "Ussa sa".

But anyway, to cut it short, fantastic concert... violins, tambourines, clarinets, small accordions, dances... and contagious joy. The gem: "Thessaloniki", a re-interpretation of a rebetiko music classic. The absolute novelty is the proposal, Acquaragia Drom style, of tracks like "Vagabondo" (Nicola di Bari) and "Lo straniero" (Georges Moustaki). Therefore also using Italian and not only the Roma language.

So I also picked up their CD. And I even chatted with these gentlemen. And I discovered that Acquaragia comes from the fact that three are Aquarius and raja means something in Roma, perhaps girl. Then, well, drom means journey... Those who follow me know that I love people like this.

We change square and find ourselves in front of a delightful little band, "Nashville & Backbones", fantastic street folk, two acoustics, keyboards, violin (with the violinist in a little red dress)... and nothing, very involved people…

On the way home, near the library, bongos and guitars and someone improvising a rap over it... Miss Luludia smiles... goodnight...