In every city, town and hamlet in the world, there are a few people who are just a little different. From a little fishing village in southern Brazil to a factory town in the Ukraine there is someone, maybe even three or four like-minded individuals, who speak an esoteric, universal language. From Stockholm to Los Angeles, from Chicago to Milan and Bologna here are people, not many mind you, who communicate in this unwritten dialect. It is the language of
the blues. Just for sake of clarification, Im not talking about blues-rock that ugly, coarse, rather juvenile, bastardized way of communicating, butreal blues. In northern Italy, there are four gentlemen who speak this language and have for many years. They are known as Egidio Juke Ingala and the Jacknives. The four individuals who make up this band have naturally gravitated to one another. Their love for the blues and mutual commitment to presenting
this music to the public the right way is so deeply ensconced in their collective consciousness that any deviation from the truth that lies in the heart of this music would be tantamount to blasphemy. They are of course Egidio, as well as guitarist Marco Gisfredi, bassist Max Pitardi and the great Enrico Henry Soverini on drums. This ensemble has been called the Italian Aces. I dont think that is really much of a stretch as these guys are cut from that same bolt of cloth. Think about that as you listen to this album. How many guitar players really understand how to play behind a harmonica for instance like Louis Meyers or Marco? How many drummers understand the various blues shuffles that Fred Below incorporated into the music of Junior Wells and Muddy Waters for instance? Enrico does and he brings that to the bandstand and the recording studio every time.
