It was a rather dark period in my life. Dark clouds were gathering on the horizon; the company I worked for was about to close down and I didn’t know what to do. On a day just like any other, as I was trying not to despair and telling myself that things would work out, my wife cheered me up by showing me a video of an American guitarist playing in front of thousands of people with his band. I was struck by how young he was (the video was from 2007, almost 10 years earlier, and he was certainly young at the time) but above all by the way he played: very well, of course, but he played the guitar (a Stratocaster, no less) in the ‘old-school’ style. In short, you could tell he was inspired by the greats of the past – Hendrix, Clapton, Steve Ray Vaughan – but he was good because he also brought his own style to it. And he had a great voice too – a singer-guitarist who also plays remarkable solos, just like in the old days. I was pleased that there was still a young man who played the guitar in this way. Many of you will have realised that I was talking about John Mayer…

The video was that of ‘Gravity’, from Crossroads 2007. My wife was really very taken with the beauty of the song (perhaps she didn’t care much for the guitar virtuosity). The young man had excellent skills both as a soloist and in terms of melody. That’s how I discovered John Mayer’s music. I bought the album featuring ‘Gravity’ – *Continuum*, released in 2006 – more for my wife than for myself. It’s a remarkable album, rich in content and spanning various genres: pop, soul, rock and blues, all blended together in every track. A masterpiece.

A few months later, I was asked to join a cover band. It wasn’t the first time, but I’d turned them down before due to a lack of time. But now I was, unfortunately, out of work, and my wife herself said to me, ‘Why don’t you go and play with them?’… Well, why not? I’ll dig out my electric guitar (incidentally, a Stratocaster-inspired PRS) and try to brush up on a few solos. It was the thing that, first and foremost, saved my sanity during that awful period; but secondly, a few years later, it helped me find a new job.

After a while, I suggested a new song to my new friends: ‘Gravity’ by John Mayer. Everyone liked it straight away and it became a permanent fixture in our repertoire. The problem was me. I could sing it and accompany myself without too much trouble, and I could manage the middle solo to some extent, but the final solo from the 2007 live version of ‘Crossroads’ was something truly remarkable. But I wanted to give it a go. At night, when everyone else was asleep, I’d often stay up watching music videos or guitar tutorials. Sometimes I’d sit at the computer with the video in question and try to follow Mayer note for note through that solo. We almost always played ‘Gravity’ at our rare gigs, even though very few people knew it. My solo needed simplifying – I wasn’t up to it – but I improved every year. Ten years on, I can say that maybe I’ve finally got there! 😉

In the meantime, I’d listened to some of John Mayer’s other work and was struck by the fact that, in his early days, he was better known for his folk/country melodies played on acoustic guitar than for his blues solos. Then, at some point, he appeared before the audience with a Stratocaster, as part of a power trio featuring Pino Palladino on bass and Steve Jordan on drums – a clear homage to line-ups such as the Jimi Hendrix Experience or Cream. And the result was a blues-rock sound with a remarkable impact, quite different from the country-style melodies of just a short while earlier. ‘Who did you think I was?’ That’s how the John Mayer Trio’s first live album, *Try!*, begins, quite fittingly. ‘Did you think I was just a romantic with an acoustic guitar? A heartthrob for teenage girls and a fixture on the New York nightlife scene? Well, now I’ll show you what I’m capable of! I know who I am; I don’t need others to point out my limitations or my strengths.” And the track is so syncopated – such a rhythmic interplay between guitar and drums, with the vocals doing something completely different – that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to replicate it.

Having moved to another city – new job, new life – but still part of the cover band, we carried on playing ‘Gravity’ and I personally continued to improve my performance. That’s when I was introduced to an Englishman who’d been living there for over 20 years and sang in a cover band similar to mine. Strangely enough, he asked me if I knew John Mayer: he’d noticed that in Italy few people know who he is, but anyone who plays the guitar certainly does. I played him one of our takes of ‘Gravity’ and he was impressed. For my part, I’d been thinking of getting round to studying some more of John Mayer’s material sooner or later, as I felt his stuff was a good learning tool for someone like me who has a lot of catching up to do and isn’t familiar with the various blues riffs and improvisation techniques.

Shortly afterwards, my new English friend rang me and said, “Let’s meet up for a coffee – I’ve got an idea.” As we sat there at a table, he said, “I know you usually sing and play, but I wanted to suggest we split the roles and start a John Mayer cover band.” My first instinct was, “I can’t do it.” Then I told him I was planning to learn some of his songs. Let’s see what I can do. I bought the two live albums I’d be using as a reference, *Try!* and *Where the Light Is* (WTLI) – the title taken from the final line of *Gravity*: ‘… just keep me where the light is…’, like a plant that needs little care.

So I immersed myself in this musical light and set to work; and it was a real pleasure. Every now and then I’d send him some recordings to give him an understanding of how close I could get to the original. But the Englishman seemed pleased. So much so that he got in touch with a drummer friend of his, who gladly accepted the challenge. After two bassists had to drop out of the project, my friend who plays bass in the other band (that he would later leave) stepped in. He was thrilled at the prospect of measuring himself against the great Pino Palladino! Challenge accepted!

After over a year of preparation, we’re finally ready – we can see the light, a musical light that at first I could only see at the end of the tunnel, during that dark period when my future was uncertain. Back then, I would never have been able to tackle such a daunting guitar challenge. Our drummer looks at me jokingly, aware of the work ahead, and says, ‘…poor fellow…’. It did take a while, in fact. But here we are at last. The time has come to show the audience what we’ve been up to. We’re still just a bunch of amateurs, and I admit it’s difficult for amateurs to tackle such complexities. But I’m convinced that, as occasional musicians, we can get close (keyword) to playing certain types of music at a decent (another keyword) enough level to allow us to perform in front of a friendly – or almost friendly – audience. Flawless precision isn’t our thing; it’s impossible. Imperfection is part of the game; it’s also part of this musical genre, which sometimes thrives precisely on this – it makes the performance human. Otherwise, you’d just pop a record on and off you go… At a time when technology pushes us to achieve perfect sounds, flawless performances and computer-driven, ironclad timing, it is precisely the idea that ordinary people – with families, jobs and little spare time – manage to put on a blues-rock event brimming with energy, passion and intensity, not giving a hoot about the occasional and inevitable imperfections, plugging their instruments into the amplifiers and giving it their all, drawing on their passion for what they do and their humanity.

Audiences in the Italian provinces are unlikely to be familiar with this music; only a few will come because they appreciate it. It isn’t a project designed to draw in the masses to sing along. It’s more challenging than that. It’s designed, first and foremost, to explore in depth a style of music that we love immensely. The main thing is that we enjoy it and we get on well together. The next step is the desire to share this enjoyment with others. It isn’t our own music, but it’s music that moves us deeply, and we like the idea of sharing these emotions with an audience, no matter how small. So we, too, step out into the open, take our risks and put ourselves out there where the light is, where others can see us and… who knows!

Now it’s our own turn to say: ‘Who did you think I was?’