Jimi Hendrix
Little Wing

Here. In about two minutes, Jimi Hendrix one day decided to show us his soul and we all realized that his soul was so, so beautiful.

Several years ago, I was listening to the radio at night. It was one of those shows where they talk a lot, but they were true connoisseurs, those whom we call in Rome, with a hint of sarcasm, 'capiscioni'. At some point, the host, talking about "Little Wing", quoted a comment made by a well-known guitarist, I don't remember who, I apologize.

Well, this guitarist said: "Little Wing is a miracle ...it's as if the soul of your dead grandfather came to visit you at night and talked with you for a bit, just the duration of the song, and it all happens so quickly that in the end, you want more but at the same time, you are in awe of what happened."

If I lived a hundred years, I don't think I could, nor would I want to, find a more...perfect definition. 

The start is stunning: with the first two distorted notes, he wakes you up, calls you: "hey, I'm talking to you, listen carefully, it won't take long". Then begins a cluster of relaxing notes and unfolds a superb musical carpet composed of a sweet and ineffable melody, evocative yet familiar, universal language things, and I am already floored.

After a handful of seconds, it’s about to 'begin'...just to say it has already begun! He is about to start singing and announces himself with an imposing and solemn drum roll as if he were a king. But he is a king!

He tells us a brief love story, or perhaps it's just a longing for love, with his irregular voice. Jimi Hendrix was even embarrassed to sing, perhaps not so much because of his voice, but because of the enormous gap between his voice and his fingers. 

What can I say, he has just started singing, and the song is already almost over, yet it feels like a lot of time has passed, that time he himself stopped, expanded, relativized, with this magnificent song. We are in paradise, we see it from the porthole of a dirigible, the glass is fogged, it doesn’t show clearly, yet we cannot deny it is paradise.

Here, it's already ending, he is bidding us farewell, we hear the echo of his guitar that starts a solo we will never hear because it fades into infinity.

The grandfather has spoken to us, we already don’t remember well what he told us.

We are sure of only one thing: whatever he told us, he was right.