Michel Petrucciani Trio
Estate

It might seem like a cliché, but music has always been and will always be the soundtrack of my life... There are dark and desperate days when you taste the bitterness of an enchanting bossanova, days of anger when you want to destroy everything and find Hendrix doing it for you, days of apathy spent feeling life slipping by, unable to grasp a melody. Today the sun is entering majestically through my window after a week of rain, I've finished my exams, I've met a fabulous girl, and the first thing that comes to mind is to listen to Petrucciani's "Estate."

I will never stop staggering and living the magic of music as an epiphany, the revelation of every moment! What miracle can push a deformed and unfortunate man to become pure beauty? What wonder can give wings to a heavy and inert heart?

Well, it's time to end this cheap poetry and start describing the reason for this choice, which should interest you more than the vicissitudes of my soul... I could tell you that the infinite sweetness of what you can hear at 4'05'' from the start of Estate is enough, I could maybe discuss how Michel manages to give a completely personal interpretation of the blues (and raise your hand if you can truly boast such a feat) at minute 3'45'' of "I Just Say Hello," I could start talking about the extraordinary skills of the two (more or less) Italian musicians who accompany him in this work, but I won't.

I just want each of you (those who know this music perhaps much better than I do, those who have never listened to jazz—this useless boast of intellectual onanists—or those who listen to it only because it’s so radical chic...) to stop for a moment and savor the sensations that arise from every note, every phrase of this extraordinary album.

Because as someone said, "poetry is not of those who write it, it's of those who need it" (from my favorite movie, if you guess the quote, a prize of admiration :-), and now I need it and, I believe, so will you.