We from Rimini overwhelmed by rock (in ’58 but let’s not say it)

On the occasion of the presentation of the literary meeting he organized this summer at the Parco degli Artisti, my friend Paolo Zaghini played a trick on me. Having dribbled his request on my date of birth, she decided to deduce it through circumstantial evidence by publishing a young photo of me combined with the date of shooting, a photo he found, as per caption, in thearchive of the Open Curtain Theater Group by Amos Piccini.

Dearest Paolo! That little boy with a guitar and a goliardic hat has awakened in me such vivid and pleasant memories that instead of protesting the pirated treatment of my personal data, I feel obliged to thank you for this dive into the unrepeatable era of the spread of the rock guitar virus in Rimini. , handed over to fans by a very nice Enzo Bianchini of Borgo San Giulianowho after the war had been part of a US Band in West Berlin.

That virus caused a real musical epidemic, infecting, through the door-to-door diffusion of those new magical chords and gut-wrenching solos, an entire generation of young guitarists from Rimini. Dozens and dozens of them arose in exponential progression complex among which stood out, for their undoubted professionalism, those of Cardinals and gods Four Kingstar. And it was at the University of Bologna where they started dating, that Gibo and Piero Spadaro (Jurisprudence) e Giorgio Giorgi, known as Flicco (Medicine), they in turn decided to form a band.

The trio had to be of a goliardic cut and perform in the parody of the first shy Italian rock with an … extra unscheduled. None other than the ‘Caribbean’ version (albeit strictly textual) of a well-known Christmas carol. So here is Gibo and Piero on guitar and Flicco on drums as well as the occasional use of bongos and maracas on the occasion of the highly sought after “You come down from the stars o King of the sky cha-cha-cha “. The name was also decided immediately. Discarded Max Turbo and his Manettas, De Cara and the Three Visde, Walter Closed and the Catenellaswe finally opted for a more cautious one Tony Cagnara and the Sordinists.

After rehearsals that kept us busy all summer, we finally made our debut at the Teatrino del CRAL of TIMO (Telefoni Italia Media Orientale). I remember that we had convinced four pretty and witty telephone operators to emit very high-pitched screams in the culminating moments of our performance and that it was thanks to them and to the whistles of approval of the students present that we happily overcome the hesitations of the debut. On the other hand, the time was already ripe for the dispute even if i Beatles they had not yet met in the mythical basement of Wimpole Street, i Rolling Stones they had not yet given their first irreverent gig at the Crawdaddy Club e Mina it was still called Baby Gate and sang Luna’s tan.

But it is fair to remember that the assault on the repressive and authoritarian society of the time started at the end of the 50s from the goliardic associations of which a very young Marco Pannella he was one of the best known leaders. Playful, non-violent and at the same time implacable contestation, such as the one that a naive ‘rock and roll’ of Celentano (‘the rebel’) twisted by our pre-sixty-eight version and the gooey ‘Nymphet’ from Gaber (the only rock and the only failure of that great one) framed in red light movie sequences. With the three of us who, now freewheeling, we performed at the Dopolavoro dei Ferrovieri in Bologna (famous for its Mensa) with the ‘bartavella’ open on charming blue-dot panties and a brand new name, indeed a flap: Burt Avella and his Avellanos.

We even gained a moment of national notoriety, immortalized by the newsreel The Incom Weekwhen the organizers of the Freshmen’s Day (three days of musical events, theater in the square, parades of allegorical floats and incredible gazzarra) had the award-winning Golfieri firm of Bologna, leader in the funeral home sector, a huge multicolored jukebox in wood and plastic placed on wheels. Huddled inside, we performed for those three long days, driven through countless streets, clubs, bars, restaurants and caves by two robust bearers dressed as Roman legionaries. We thus secured a fortune of coins of fifty lire (one song) and one hundred (three), squandered, together with the two centurions, in the best restaurants and places of perdition in Bologna to the delight of the Cashiers at the time of counting. The trio inevitably broke up when the university commitment took over. We therefore graduated in regular time, dedicating ourselves immediately to our respective professions, without giving up on finding ourselves, as in the old days, to laugh, joke and… get angry. Obviously not among us but with those who, yesterday as today, always try to turn back the famous hands.

Giuliano Bonizzato

(In the opening image: November 22, 1958. Giuliano Bonizzato in a goliardic version: clipping of a photograph from the photographic archive of the Rimini Theater Group “Sipario Aperto”, owned by Amos Piccini)

We from Rimini overwhelmed by rock (in ’58 but let’s not say it) – Chiamamicitta