Gino Vannelli
Storm at Sunup

But I am the storm, so sensitive, so free...

The rain and wind rage outside the window, while a magnificent Fender Rhodes sketches out a few notes to accompany the desperate call to the beloved woman; finally, the strings and the falsetto—that falsetto that set a standard in popular music.

Ladies and gentlemen: Gino Vannelli. But that's not all: suddenly, the song shifts perspective, launching into a thrilling jazz-fusion section, in the best Weather Report tradition.

Then, once again, the strings fade out, a repeated note ushers in the magnificent "Love me Now", manifesto of what would, unfortunately, later be trivially labeled as pop fusion. Thus begins "Storm at Sunup", the third album by the great Italian-Canadian artist, still significantly indebted here to Stevie Wonder, who in turn was an ardent admirer of our hero.

Legend has it, in fact, that during the recording breaks of "People Gotta Move", his wonderful second album, good old Gino dozed off by the hotel pool, only to be abruptly awakened by a piano melody and a familiar voice. In the hall, the mystery was revealed: a certain Stevie Wonder was singing "Granny Goodbye" and was informed by a member of his entourage that the guy from "Crazy Life" was right there, in front of him.

Not bad, right? From that moment on, Stevie invited him to join his tour, boosting his fame among Black Music listeners.

Indeed, "People Gotta Move", a glorious mid-tempo funk track with clear disco influences, was put in heavy rotation on the popular show Soul Train, allowing Vannelli to climb the sales charts.

But on his third album, Gino widens the boundaries of improvisation and sonic spectrum, already extremely refined, varied, and sophisticated in itself. A prime example is "Mama Coco", a tribute to Stevie's aforementioned "Music on My Mind" as well as to "Hot Buttered Soul" by Isaac Hayes in a fusion—or even prog—key. There are also intimate moments, such as the splendid "Father and Son", somewhere between Sinatra, Sam Cooke and George Michael, or "Getting High", an edgy Pamphlet against the abuse of substances like drugs and alcohol, drawn by a rounded bass line, stellar sax, and the trusty Fender Rhodes of his brother Joe.

Not to mention the moving "Keep on Walking", with a harmonica solo that could melt the heart even of those who believe that love is just for romance novels. The album’s pinnacle, in my opinion—an astonishing prelude to the masterpieces that would follow—remains "Where Am I Going", where Isaac Hayes, Weather Report, Broadway musicals, and prog coexist happily. "Love is a Night", on the other hand, is classic Vannelli Style, almost as if it were an outtake from "Nightwalker", but several years earlier.

"Storm at Sunup" didn’t chart as highly as its predecessor, but it certainly remains a wonderful album, ripe for reappraisal and rediscovery—a happy watershed between the first phase of his career, brimming with experimentation yet still unfocused in musical direction, and the second, with the mature masterpieces, namely "Brother to Brother" and "Nightwalker".

Hurry up and listen to it, dear friends, perhaps with a Martini in hand, toasting to the health of our hero, Gino. Salùt.