The Sugarman Three
Sugar's Boogaloo

The first time, it was probably JDM's fault.

August 1985 - freshly eighteen.

At that time, as kids, we eagerly awaited our first trips abroad.

The destinations were essentially two: the beach in Spain and Amsterdam. Both guaranteed fun with tons of girls and weed.

For me, however, there was no doubt: Paris, above all.

Besides going to greet JDM, that city had something that intrigued me.

Perhaps things I've read... I don't remember, but it was so. Fascinated, even before seeing it.

And then, for girls, I didn’t need to go abroad and as for joints, they never really got to me. Alcohol soon became the absolute preference for getting high; it was closer to me in every way.

I was practically the only one still studying; the others had stopped after middle school or at most after a couple of useless years of high school. One preferred to be free in choices, autonomous, with some money in the pocket... and stubbornly ignorant.

I didn’t have the same freedom as my friends in this regard. My mother used to say a student couldn’t stay out late and various other things. On the non-relationship between me and my mother, there could be a book of situations halfway between the tragic and the grotesque....

A beautiful woman with deadly charm, although I must admit she never boasted about it. In fact, she wanted to be regarded for her strong personality and her social battles in those gray and nervous seventies: feminism, Udi, the Party, solidarity saw her in the forefront.

A great woman from that point of view... but a small mother. However, it’s not her fault; she only unconsciously poured her very sad childhood onto me.

And anyway, now that we are older, things are a little better between us.

Going back to eighteen.... for me, it was a total turning point.

It’s probably difficult to understand, both for those who had normal family situations and relationships, and especially for today's youngsters.

Now, it probably just means being able to get a driver's license.

First of all, suitcase and move to Bruno. That was what I wanted; the judge no longer mattered at all. Of course, I often went to my mother's; they lived nearby... but now I was with Dad.

Then, first vacation abroad, hugely. The guys, as expected, split between Spain and Amsterdam. Their attempts to convince me didn’t stand a chance. I would go to Paris, by train... maybe Amsterdam but not before spending at least a week in the French capital.

Stefano says he's coming with me. Perfect. Two, less mess, and fewer problems.

But then he gets swayed by the herd and chooses Spain. How pointless!

Just kidding, Stefano is a great friend from childhood; we grew up together, an incredible character... an artist forever... he must have changed a thousand activities and situations... we were kids, no problem.

"You’re not going to Paris alone, don’t even think about it," thundered Mom; "I am going, I’m of age and I even worked for a month and a half so I wouldn’t have to ask you for money, don't be annoying," I replied. I no longer accepted nonsense... well, to be honest, I never did.

She was convinced I wasn’t going... I didn’t talk about it anymore and on the set evening, I took my backpack and hitched to the station in Reggio. Took the night train to Paris. I arrived in the morning and called her “I’m in Paris, don't worry. See you in a couple of weeks.” Bruno knew, so no problem. Now I had to discover the City, everything else did not matter.

Already Gare de Lyon seemed huge, like you could get lost. The flash was incredible.

Those two weeks (I went to Amsterdam later at Christmas) helped me grow a lot. All the situations I experienced, especially the negative ones, later turned out to be fundamental lessons for the years to come.

Pigalle and Montmartre became my home; it felt like I had always been there... maybe I had been...

And Pere Lachaise was my “sacred” place, where I went to visit a friend. From that moment, every time, it will be a heartfelt greeting in an imaginative atmosphere.

It was a warm embrace with which Paris welcomed me, with some significant pushing, but beautiful and exciting.

The Sugarman Three immediately reminded me of Her from the first notes.

The same warmth, the same innate class.

A sound that I don’t listen to often, but I adore... I can listen to it joyfully for days in a row.

They struck me immediately, much like Morphine did when I discovered them here thanks to you a couple of years ago. They don’t have much to do with this, or perhaps just a little. Perhaps it’s just my feeling, but I tend to associate the two bands.

More rock, dazzling, frenetic, and modern than Morphine; softer, black, and retro the Sugarman 3.

They could be the soundtrack of those sixties films, strictly in black and white, or the perfect musical pairing with characters like Gassman in “Il sorpasso” or Tognazzi in “La Voglia Matta”. It doesn’t fit – here too – or maybe it does a little, but as I write this, this association came to my mind, and I share it with you.

Or again the sound you could hear when, in those years (because we always end up there), if you showed up at a party and a gorgeous blonde (or brunette, either way) opened the door in a miniskirt, blouse, and boots, all smiles and full of life... like Spaak, indeed, or Bardot.

Or yet perfectly in style with Versilia and Côte d'Azur in the roaring years.

No guitars. No voice. Sax, keyboards, and drums. Very warm and enveloping.

A sound with no half measures... it either bores you or enchants you.

A sound that immediately took me back to a couple of nightclubs in the noble city where they played jazz and similar stuff. Nights when that music, in those smoky and low places, in that city... with a dose, usually without any criteria, of invigorating alcohol, became indelible connections even in my poor memory.

Since that first time, I feel adopted by old Paris. Pigalle and Montmartre, unfortunately, have changed, but they maintain an extraordinary vintage charm.

I need to go every two or three years, a mandatory return for my soul's happiness.

Next time I'll take them with me, these three nobles.

Thanks to zig, it was your listening to a Daptone Record collection that made me discover them.

Four albums similar in quality, but I have a soft spot for debuts... and then with this cover, it’s an easy win...

Enjoy listening