It is the same week of that Fuckin' Monday night, February 13th, in the town of Michelangelo. And it's the exact moment that makes me realise that life is something slightly different from the usual shit routine of home-school-home.That's because this is the time I find out that the book of opportunities and things to do - blank until five days ago - may be read under a different perspective. Facts are speaking for themselves!

Just because it's still February (the 18th) and, to be exact, mostly because it's 30 years ago.

In fact, it's 1972. And I'm very, very young!

And everything is fine tonight, because for me - having been wandering spaced out for the last few days and just five days away from my 14th birthday - as well for other 35 (read: thirtyfive) good souls patiently waiting in a well-mannered queue outside the sci-fi Space Electronic club, located in the heart of the town of Michelangelo, this is going be another night to remember, the third one in a single week.

Let's face reality: it's Friday night, the weekend has just begun and people are ready to party - but which party in the town of Michelangelo? Luckily enough, this has been a week that saw us - I mean the local rock community - very much under pressure, and the events make us feel very much alive and in charge of our future (provided we have one). As a matter of fact, it doesn't often happen that three of the greatest and most beloved acts of the international so-called 'rock scene' play in the same hometown club, a club which up to this day has been considered by the local community as a 'freak house'. Van Der Graaf Generator played on Monday 14th, Rory Gallagher on Thursday 17th and tonight (Friday 18th) will be the turn of the mighty mighty Groundhogs. These bands are quickly changing, and in a much wider perspective they will definitely change (for several reasons) our musical viewpoint. It is only fair to add that from this week onwards - and with great pleasure from the club owners' part - the Space Electronic will be dubbed by the local gang as 'The Fillmore of Florence'. Whoa. Period.

The sonic attack brought by this army of long-haired gentlemen obviously played havoc on the local boys' meagre finances. After two sold-out concerts of such greatness, that Friday night the Space Electronic Club was empty like most of the kids' pockets.

The audience tonight look like a bunch of zombies. Waiting for the band to get on stage, listening to Graziano Miai's selection of goods (tonight he will play mostly Gallagher and VDGG's music, fired up from the previous nights!), the kids exchange impressions about Gallagher's and VDGG's local gigs. Our presence here tonight is due more to our loyalty to the club than to the desire to see the band. In the cold air of the early evening you tend to think that, 30 years or so from now, you'll have something to tell about a great band and a great gig you attended to almost alone in a ballroom.

Tony McPhee's Groundhogs are touring Europe by train. It's the easiest and safest way,  but mostly - I will discover later - they do this because they're flat broke. Gear is not a problem for a band accustomed to cheap gigs: just an amp for the bass, one for the guitar and a drumkit.

Of the three members of the band (the other two are bassist Pete Cruickshank and Ken Pustelnik), guitarist Tony McPhee is the one for whom the term 'hippie' fits the best, but no one could question his efficiency in running his small business We don't know much about him, apart from what we managed to suss out listening to Groundhog's latest album, 'Split'. We know of his long residence in the rectricted area of the British Blues Knights from the day one, but that's almost it. An album documenting a collaboration of him with John Lee Hooker is very high in yours truly's most sought-after LPs list.    

'They play good psyched-out blues'. This is the word spreaded around by those who own more Groundhogs LPs than just their latest album- and this is enough for those of us who trust them!

When the concert begins my first impressions are dictated by the surrounding coldness of the audience, much more embarrassed than the band themselves. McPhee is a man who clearly knows well his job and how to handle even the toughest situation - and this is one of those situations. After a short while, though, I realise that a long mantra-oriented blues modulation is starting to getting to me. I don't immediately realize what is making the music sounding better now, but I'm sure something has been added to the whole sound. Thus, I decide to change seat (in line with the late sixties/early seventies contemporary art fashion style, at the Space Electronic seats are provided by washing-machine cilinders, a real torture even for the toughest ones!). Moving from seat to seat just to find a better listening position (which might amplify the enhanced fx) and some relief for my buttocks, I find out much to my surprise that somebody in the front row has happily fallen asleep. His sleep is so sound that his loud snoring has a sonic quality that, to my ears, adds something to the hard rocking bass edge of the band. And this is the efx which is making the Groundhogs sound better. I will spend the whole time the band will be on stage just trying to benefit as much as possible from these aural fx. I can't actually describe how they played 'Cherry Red' (because that was the song at issue!). I don't recall. Back then, I was too much into mixing the sounds coming from the stage with those coming from the audience. Listening to various renditions of this classic, spacey tune on records I would say they usually have their homework done, but never like this!!

The sleeping guy suddenly wakes up when the song comes to the end and Tony McPhee dedicates the next one 'to the guy sleeping one out there', arousing general laughter.  

The guy's been sleeping for 15 minutes at least. The comments from his friends are vitriolic, and when he asks what happened while he was dozing they say: 'You didn't miss too much of their set, just one long piece'.

The concert goes on, with Mr. McPhee doing his best to keep the interest of the small audience alive, and I realize that Groundhogs' music is nothing without some snoring. The rest of the show will be an utter bore for me, just praying for that guy to fall asleep again. But since his friends are preventing him from dozing again, I decide to leave the ballroom early, absolutely disappointed by the show.

In the following years I didn't buy a single Groundhogs' album - not until I started snoring myself. Now I own all of them!

Ernesto de Pascale

Firenze,26.5/02

Seventies' Recollection:
Van Der Graaf Generator
Soft Machine
Genesis
Gallagher
Marc Bolan
Led Zeppelin