Newsgroup: it.fan.musica.springsteen
Titolo: Tributo

Ciao qualcuno ha anche la traduzione di questo?
grazie
ciao
andrea
FAREWELL TO DANNY
Let me start with the stories.
Back in the days of miracles, the frontier days when "Mad Dog" Lopez and his 
temper struck fear into the band, small club owners, innocent civilians and 
all women, children and small animals.
Back in the days when you could still sign your life away on the hood of a 
parked car in New York City.
Back shortly after a young red-headed accordionist struck gold on the Ted 
Mack Amateur Hour and he and his mama were sent to Switzerland to show them 
how it's really done.
Back before beach bums were featured on the cover of Time magazine.
I'm talking about back when the E Street Band was a communist organization! 
My pal, quiet, shy Dan Federici, was a one-man creator of some of the 
hairiest circumstances of our 40 year career... And that wasn't easy to do. 
He had "Mad Dog" Lopez to compete with.... Danny just outlasted him.
Maybe it was the "police riot" in Middletown, New Jersey. A show we were 
doing to raise bail money for "Mad Log" Lopez who was in jail in Richmond, 
Virginia, for having an altercation with police officers who we'd aggravated 
by playing too long. Danny allegedly knocked over our huge Marshall stacks 
on some of Middletown's finest who had rushed the stage because we broke the 
law by...playing too long.
As I stood there watching, several police oficers crawled out from 
underneath the speaker cabinets and rushed away to seek medical attention. 
Another nice young officer stood in front of me onstage waving his 
nightstick, poking and calling me nasty names. I looked over to see Danny 
with a beefy police officer pulling on one arm while Flo Federici, his first 
wife, pulled on the other, assisting her man in resisting arrest.
A kid leapt from the audience onto the stage, momentarily distracting the 
beefy officer with the insults of the day. Forever thereafter, "Phantom" Dan 
Federici slipped into the crowd and disappeared.
A warrant out for his arrest and one month on the lam later, he still hadn't 
been brought to justice. We hid him in various places but now we had a 
problem. We had a show coming at Monmouth College. We needed the money and 
we had to do the gig. We tried a replacement but it didn't work out. So 
Danny, to all of our admiration, stepped up and said he'd risk his freedom, 
take the chance and play.
Show night. 2,000 screaming fans in the Monmouth College gym. We had it 
worked out so Danny would not appear onstage until the moment we started 
playing. We figured the police who were there to arrest him wouldn't do so 
onstage during the show and risk starting another riot.
Let me set the scene for you. Danny is hiding, hunkered down in the backseat 
of a car in the parking lot. At five minutes to eight, our scheduled start 
time, I go out to whisk him in. I tap on the window.
"Danny, come on, it's time."
I hear back, "I'm not going."
Me: "What do you mean you're not going?"
Danny: "The cops are on the roof of the gym. I've seen them and they're 
going to nail me the minute I step out of this car."
As I open the door, I realize that Danny has been smoking a little something 
and had grown rather paranoid. I said, "Dan, there are no cops on the roof."
He says, "Yes, I saw them, I tell you. I'm not coming in."
So I used a procedure I'd call on often over the next forty years in dealing 
with my old pal's concerns. I threatened him...and cajoled. Finally, out he 
came. Across the parking lot and into the gym we swept for a rapturous 
concert during which we laughted like thieves at our excellent dodge of the 
local cops.
At the end of the evening, during the last song, I pulled the entire crowd 
up onto the stage and Danny slipped into the audience and out the front 
door. Once again, "Phantom" Dan had made his exit. (I still get the 
occasional card from the old Chief of Police of Middletown wishing us well. 
Our histories are forever intertwined.) And that, my friends, was only the 
beginning.
There was the time Danny quit the band during a rough period at Max's Kansas 
City, explaining to me that he was leaving to fix televisions. I asked him 
to think about that and come back later.
Or Danny, in the band rental car, bouncing off several parked cars after a 
night of entertainment, smashing out the windshield with his head but saved 
from severe injury by the huge hard cowboy hat he bought in Texas on our 
last Western swing.
Or Danny, leaving a large marijuana plant on the front seat of his car in a 
tow away zone. The car was promptly towed. He said, "Bruce, I'm going to go 
down and report that it was stolen." I said, "I'm not sure that's a good 
idea."
Down he went and straight into the slammer without passing go.
Or Danny, the only member of the E Street Band to be physically thrown out 
of the Stone Pony. Considering all the money we made them, that wasn't easy 
to do.
Or Danny receiving and surviving a "cautionary assault" from an enraged but 
restrained "Big Man" Clarence Clemons while they were living together and 
Danny finally drove the "Big Man" over the big top.
Or Danny assisting me in removing my foot from his stereo speaker after 
being the only band member ever to drive me into a violent rage.
And through it all, Danny played his beautiful, soulful B3 organ for me and 
our love grew. And continued to grow. Life is funny like that. He was my 
homeboy, and great, and for that you make considerations... And he was much 
more tolerant of my failures than I was of his.
When Danny wasn't causing chaos, he was a sweet, talented, unassuming, 
unpretentious good-hearted guy who simply had an unchecked ability to make 
good fortune and things in general go fabulously wrong.
But beyond all of that, he also had a mountain of the right stuff. He had 
the heart and soul of an engineer. He learned to fly. He was always up on 
the latest technology and would explain it to you patiently and in enormous 
detail. He was always "souping" something up, his car, his stereo, his B3. 
When Patti joined the band, he was the most welcoming, thoughtful, kindest 
friend to the first woman entering our "boys club."
He loved his kids, always bragging about Jason, Harley, and Madison, and he 
loved his wife Maya for the new things she brought into his life.
And then there was his artistry. He was the most intuitive player I've ever 
seen. His style was slippery and fluid, drawn to the spaces the other 
musicians in the E Street Band left. He wasn't an assertive player, he was a 
complementary player. A true accompanist. He naturally supplied the glue 
that bound the band's sound together. In doing so, he created for himself a 
very specific style. When you hear Dan Federici, you don't hear a blanket of 
sound, you hear a riff, packed with energy, flying above everything else for 
a few moments and then gone back in the track. "Phantom" Dan Federici. Now 
you hear him, now you don't.
Offstage, Danny couldn't recite a lyric or a chord progression for one of my 
songs. Onstage, his ears opened up. He listened, he felt, he played, finding 
the perfect hole and placement for a chord or a flurry of notes. This style 
created a tremendous feeling of spontaneity in our ensemble playing.
In the studio, if I wanted to loosen up the track we were recording, I'd put 
Danny on it and not tell him what to play. I'd just set him loose. He 
brought with him the sound of the carnival, the amusements, the boardwalk, 
the beach, the geography of our youth and the heart and soul of the 
birthplace of the E Street Band.
Then we grew up. Very slowly. We stood together through a lot of trials and 
tribulations. Danny's response to a mistake onstage, hard times, 
catastrophic events was usually a shrug and a smile. Sort of an "I am but 
one man in a raging sea, but I'm still afloat. And we're all still here."
I watched Danny fight and conquer some tough addictions. I watched him 
struggle to put his life together and in the last decade when the band 
reunited, thrive on sitting in his seat behind that big B3, filled with life 
and, yes, a new maturity, passion for his job, his family and his home in 
the brother and sisterhood of our band.
Finally, I watched him fight his cancer without complaint and with great 
courage and spirit. When I asked him how things looked, he just said, "what 
are you going to do? I'm looking forward to tomorrow." Danny, the sunny side 
up fatalist. He never gave up right to the end.
A few weeks back we ended up onstage in Indianapolis for what would be the 
last time. Before we went on I asked him what he wanted to play and he said, 
"Sandy." He wanted to strap on the accordion and revisit the boardwalk of 
our youth during the summer nights when we'd walk along the boards with all 
the time in the world.
So what if we just smashed into three parked cars, it's a beautiful night! 
So what if we're on the lam from the entire Middletown police department, 
let's go take a swim! He wanted to play once more the song that is of course 
about the end of something wonderful and the beginning of something unknown 
and new.
Let's go back to the days of miracles. Pete Townshend said, "a rock and roll 
band is a crazy thing. You meet some people when you're a kid and unlike any 
other occupation in the whole world, you're stuck with them your whole life 
no matter who they are or what crazy things they do."
If we didn't play together, the E Street Band at this point would probably 
not know one another. We wouldn't be in this room together. But we do... We 
do play together. And every night at 8 p.m., we walk out on stage together 
and that, my friends, is a place where miracles occur...old and new 
miracles. And those you are with, in the presence of miracles, you never 
forget. Life does not separate you. Death does not separate you. Those you 
are with who create miracles for you, like Danny did for me every night, you 
are honored to be amongst.
Of course we all grow up and we know "it's only rock and roll"...but it's 
not. After a lifetime of watching a man perform his miracle for you, night 
after night, it feels an awful lot like love.
So today, making another one of his mysterious exits, we say farewell to 
Danny, "Phantom" Dan, Federici. Father, husband, my brother, my friend, my 
mystery, my thorn, my rose, my keyboard player, my miracle man and lifelong 
member in good standing of the house rockin', pants droppin', earth 
shockin', hard rockin', booty shakin', love makin', heart breakin', soul 
cryin'... and, yes, death defyin' legendary E Street Band.

 Ciao qualcuno ha anche la traduzione di questo?
cerca nel forum di 
loose-ends.it
ciao
Rob

Straziante. Anche se mi voglio ricordare il Fantasma che 
scaraventa gli amplificatori addosso alla pula e che si fa 
rimuovere la macchina dal divieto di sosta con una pianta di 
maria (sarà mica quella madame Marie?) o che non vuole uscire 
dall'auto perchè in paranoia e vede sbirri sui tetti... e pure 
nascosto dagli amici perchè oggetto di un mandato di arresto per 
la sommossa di cui sopra.
Vedere le immagini del video in memoriam sul sito mi ha fatto 
scendere le lacrime...
La vita è crudele, la morte non ci divide anzi ci unisce. Ogni 
volta che ci penso sento un colpo alla bocca dello stomaco...
Mi sembra impossibile che non ci sia più. E non credo di essere 
l'unico. 
Un abbraccio, 
Karlash
-- 
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Gerarchie it, italia, it-alt, tin, it.binari. Unico!

 maria (sarà mica quella madame Marie?)
beh direi di no
Madame Marie era una maga che leggeva il futuro nelle carte e nella sfera di 
cristallo in un chiosco sul lungomare di Asbury Park
http://www.angelfire.com/journal2/brucefan/images/mariepic3.jpg
http://www.angelfire.com/journal2/brucefan/images/mariepic7.jpg
http://it.youtube.com/watch?v=utbXBjmjj9Y
e com'è oggi
http://aminus3.s3.amazonaws.com/image/g0007/u00006557/i00241263/232f8f16ca463edb18faaea69e122b3c_large.jpg
nulla toglie che sta Marie si fumasse un bel cannone di erba buona (allora 
sì che ce n'era in abbondanza, oggi solo fumo della peggiore qualità!) prima 
di attaccare a lavoro ;-) 

era ovviamente una battuta, bisogna ricordare in un momento così triste chi 
ha vissuto in un momento in cui io stavo nascendo e che era fatto di 
eccessi.
va da se che oggi con Danny nel cuore voglio solo scherzarci un po' sopra, 
perchè i giorni sono tristi ed al pensiero della prima immagine del video di 
tributo mi viene ancora da piangere.
Pensate solo a che cosa sarebbe stato se il fantasma fosse andato a riparare 
televisori come aveva detto. Ma gli amici non chiudono le porte. Mai. E 
credo che questo sia l'insegnamento che si deve trarre da tutto questo.
un abbraccio a tutti.
Karlash.
"Bobby Jean" <no...@m.please> ha scritto nel messaggio 
news:4818b93c$0$40219$4faf...@reader5.news.tin.it...


 era ovviamente una battuta
ops ;-)