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Rating: At the dawn of the '70s, after spending the last few years collaborating as a guitar virtuoso with the most important artists of the moment (Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, and others), at the age of 33 it was time for Norman Blake to embark on a solo career.
So, armed with one of his fabulous Martins, on New Year's Eve eve, he locked himself in the recording studio, accompanied by his friend Tut Taylor on the dobro, only to emerge when everything was done.
Recorded entirely on December 30, 1971 at Glaser Sound Studios in Nashville, Norman Blake's first solo album followed the same fate as many debut works by other great artists: excellent critical acclaim in qualitative terms, sales barely above zero.
Yet the pebble had been thrown into the pond.
America gradually became aware of this phenomenal talent, who managed to faithfully reproduce on guitar melodies traditionally written for the violin (or rather, for the fiddle), interspersing them with original compositions so meticulously crafted in atmosphere and detail that it was necessary to refer to the liner notes to distinguish them from traditional pieces.
From the very beginning, the young musician revealed, in addition to an infallible technique, an absolute mastery of overdub techniques, thus creating perfectly blended tracks, overdubbing the mandolin on the guitar at times, and at other times the guitar itself.
Over the years, the album has unfolded in all its splendor and is today considered a milestone and a point of reference for three entire generations of guitarists.
It starts off strong, with an overwhelming interpretation of the traditional "Little Joe," followed by two surprising originals: an equally lively "Richland Avenue Rag" (instrumental) and a sweet and melancholic "When The Fields Are White With Daisies," which in my opinion remains to this day one of the most beautiful folk ballads ever written.
It is followed by a dozen other pieces of undeniable value (15 in total), in which finding a misstep or simply a filler is truly difficult. Each single piece would deserve mention and a dedicated review, starting with "Ginseng Sullivan" and "Down Home Summertime Blues," but would it make sense?
The best review is to insert the CD into the player and, forgetting the frenzy of modern life, let yourself be transported to a lost America, by the Artist who, more than anyone else, boasts the suitable credentials to be your guide on such a particular dive into the past.
Happy listening!
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