Steve Wynn
Non lo direi se non fosse vero

Steve Wynn has published his autobiography. Or rather, the first part of his autobiography: “Non lo direi se non fosse vero” (Jimenez, 2015, translated by Gianluca Testani) ends in 1988, and it's evident that, sooner or later, a sequel will arrive. By the way: do you know why the book was given that title? I don't, I confess. Surely you will find an explanation or some clue scattered somewhere in the pages of the volume, but it eluded me. Perhaps I was thinking of disappointments, great endeavors, a Thai woman. Or, more likely, how cool the music of the Dream Syndicate was. That mixture of rock and psychedelia amalgamated by the Californian band, that sound, guitar-driven and muscular, hit straight into our guts since the early '80s of the last century. An irresistible sound, ça va sans dire.

Wynn is irresistible even when he tells his story. And he is even capable of looking beyond his own navel. Of course, we are dealing with a memoir, but the horizons remain open. “Non lo direi se non fosse vero” dives headlong into a scene that at some point bursts its banks and surpasses the narrow confines of California. The Paisley Underground becomes a word and the Dream Syndicate take on the task of narrating its deeds. Along with a large group of other scrappy bands. Read Thin White Rope, Green on Red, Bangs, who soon will transform into Bangles. The author of the volume talks about himself but does not forget with whom he grew up, with whom he teamed up (one must also mention R.E.M.). Then, clearly, there is also Steve Wynn. Who writes his first song at nine years old but does not believe, at least during adolescence, that playing could offer a more or less certain future. Life tries to set him up with two other options: sports journalist, or record store clerk. Speaking of that latter activity, Wynn tells of having had an excellent customer: Sherman Hemsley, George from the popular series “The Jeffersons,” passionate about none other than PFM!

There it is: the book is full of anecdotes like the one above, of many small and great curiosities. But above all, Wynn opens up, confessing his weaknesses: here he is ready to talk about his problems with alcohol and speed, the misunderstandings with the rest of the band and with record labels. Of a vagabond life, of a broken family but not distant because of it, of the fundamental meeting with Alex Chilton, of the one with a very young, but already talented, Hope Sandoval.

It seems that good Steve has spent his life running, seizing opportunities on the fly, trying to make himself better, as a man and as a musician. Until he claims that “rationality, experience, and professionalism can hinder the process and silence the muse.” A declaration of intent that describes better than one might do the spirit of a movement called Paisley Underground. Of which Wynn was one of the main protagonists. A book worth reading. I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.