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Rating: Ritchie Blackmore forms, along with Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck, my trio of most beloved guitarists (with the necessary clarification that, for me, Hendrix is beyond any evaluation or comparison with anyone, his talent is too immense). Only Jerry Bloom, more authoritative than ever when it comes to Deep Purple and its surroundings, could have the desire and patience to write an (unauthorized) biography about Richard Hugh Blackmore. The guitarist is a very difficult character to pin down. The interviews he has given throughout his career have always been disconcerting; a bit like Dylan, some years earlier, he always enjoyed making fun of the journalist of the moment; so you never knew when he was serious or when he was joking. Gloomy, annoying, moody, selfish, egocentric; these are the adjectives that have almost always been used to describe his character and personality. Bloom tries to be as impartial as possible, narrating the way things have (or should have) gone, leaving the reader to form their own opinion on the various situations. The book is truly a "Bible" for those who love the musician. The early years of his career are recounted with an incredible wealth of detail (about a quarter of the book!); his numerous collaborations help us rediscover forgotten or almost forgotten names (Lord Sutch, Savages, Outlaws, Jaywalkers, and many others). We reach the birth of Deep Purple; the worldwide success, the surreal quarrels with Gillan, the cold war with Coverdale and Hughes. It is not true, in my opinion, that he didn’t like the new Purple sound... the problem was only that those two audacious guys were stealing some of his spotlight. A true dictator who always had to have the final say in every decision. Unbearable when he refused to come out for encores, stubbornly insisting that for him the concert was over, or when, for several months, he didn’t even travel with the others, joining them just before the concert to avoid seeing Gillan. In Rainbow, none of the albums have the same lineup as the previous one; the musicians came and went like hotel guests. And, here too, quarrels with the most charismatic: Dio, Powell, Glover, Airley. To finally arrive at the Blackmore's Night project with his wife Candice and the radical change of genre (but not of ownership; even here the "others" don't count and are repeatedly replaced).
Someone like him should annoy me endlessly (and indeed a little he does!); but then there is Ritchie Blackmore the musician who has given me (and continues to give) incredible emotions: Imagination, class, speed; many believe that, together with Hendrix, his only reference, he is the guitarist most talented in forming entire generations of new guitarists. and, for whatever it's worth, I completely agree. Everyone I mentioned before for Blackmore the musician only has absolute admiration. I quote, for all, Roger Glover (one who was literally kicked out of Purple by him for no reason other than his friendship with Gillan!): "He is a formidable guitarist, one of those unique people that God pointed at saying 'You will have something that no one else has. He possesses an otherworldly gift, which almost destroys him: Perhaps he can't manage his talent, that's why he's so strange." A looming presence even for his peers at the time who were "playing" for the role of best guitar hero. Page, Clapton, Beck, and company practically never spoke of him. They were the most adored and talked-about, the most well-regarded by insiders; but to him, to the "Man in Black", none of it mattered. He knew he was number one.
Thank you Ritchie, you may be a stubborn and overbearing bastard, done in your own way, but when I listen to you, you make me forget it.
The book is a story of a piece of rock history from the sixties to the present day.
Happy reading.
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