Dario Lombardo in an interview “You have to understand what you’re singing”

At the Maison du Blues, Dario Lombardo reconnects with a story that ties him closely to the French scene. More than thirty years after his first tours across France alongside Phil Guy, the Turin-born musician looks back on a journey built between Chicago and Italy, shaped by encounters, enduring musical loyalties, and a blues lived over time. Mentor, friend, and road companion, Phil holds a central place in this story, where Jacques Garcia, the memory of the Checkerboard Lounge, European roads, and a demanding vision of the blues intersect, passed on and defended without compromise.

A meeting with a larger-than-life bluesman, fueled by anecdotes, history, and an overflowing passion for the blues!

🎙️ Dario Lombardo interviewed by Marc Loison

Hello Dario! We’re here at the Maison du Blues. You’re playing here tonight and again tomorrow. And you’ve known Jacques Garcia for many years, I believe?

Yes. I met Jacques Garcia in the early 1990s, in 1990 to be precise. I was playing with an Italian band in a venue where he was the promoter. After the concert, we started talking, and I told him that I was working with Phil Guy and that I’d like to come and play with him in France. That’s how it all began. In 1991, we started organizing our first concert together. Then, in 1992, we did a major French tour lasting two months, in October and November. We toured all over France! After that, we did other things, you know… We also went to Cognac in 1994.

In a few words, about your collaboration with Phil Guy… What kind of bluesman and what kind of man was he?

Phil Guy was a great musician, a great friend, and an excellent mentor. I met him for the first time in 1987. I was playing then with the band Model T Boogie. Model T Boogie was an Italian band, and it was the first Italian band invited, not to play the Chicago Blues Festival, but directly by the City of Chicago, as an official guest, for the 1987 edition.

It was the first time an Italian band received such an honor and such a privilege. We were taken to a place near the old Checkerboard Lounge, on the South Side of Chicago. It was called Muddy Waters Drive. It was a small place that, at the time, was nothing special. I went back years later: they had built something there, a public library or a similar facility. But at that moment, the place was empty. We were simply told: “You’re going to be able to play with someone here!” I asked: “Who?” I was told: “I don’t know.” Nobody knew. We just had to go there and play… And it was Phil. I remember him calling us over. There’s actually a video on YouTube: someone uploaded it because an Italian TV crew was doing a report that day.

We were then invited to get on stage: “Yeah! The Italian band, come play the blues, come on guys!” We played, and he put us to the test, watching our reactions closely. In fact, we knew his way of playing perfectly, because we had his records. The pressure was intense (laughs), but we knew exactly what we had to do. After that filming, we played a second set, with the same songs, together at the Checkerboard Lounge.

At the end, we said to him: “Good evening Phil, goodbye. Would you like to come to Italy to play with us?” He answered: “Why not?” And that’s how it all started. This collaboration ended in 2008, when he passed away. That represents a shared working period of twenty-one years. That’s also why the CD we recorded with Jacques Garcia is titled Working Together, Travailler ensemble (recorded in 1992, released in 1999).

“Phil Guy was a mentor, but also a friend.”

Was it a real friendship before you started working together?…

Yes, both at once. For us, he was of course a mentor, but also a friend. We rehearsed together, we drank, we had fun, and we shared everything musicians share day to day. He was both a mentor, a friend, and a true working partner. We traveled the roads together, crossed mountains, and when we arrived somewhere, he was always very afraid of the steep roads you find in Europe. He would grumble a bit. In France, when he noticed the signs that said “rappel”, he started repeating everywhere: “Rappel!”, “rappel!”, because he dreaded mountain roads (laughs). He even said: “Once I dreamed I met the devil on a steep road like that, so I’m afraid of it!” (laughs). Of course, it was a joke.

But above all, he was an incredibly rich human being. In conversation, he would sometimes say: “Oh, I remember that time, I played with Otis Redding…” I would answer: “What? You did that?…” And Phil Guy would continue: “Yes, I was in a small band in Louisiana, and he came to play, and we played a bit together…” I would just say: “OK…” Another time, he would mention: “When we were with the Rolling Stones …”, and I’d think again: “OK…” (laughs). Or: “When we were with the band Mountain and Janis Joplin, on the Canadian Festival Express Train…”

He carried an extraordinary accumulation of experiences, memories, musical sensations, and music stories. That’s why we keep remembering him. He passed away in 2008 and, after that, the initiative called the Phil Guy International Day, “the international day dedicated to Phil Guy”, was created and is held every year in April. The chosen date is April 28, his birthday. All around the world, tributes are organized.

Since musicians don’t always have a concert exactly on April 28, the principle is simple: “OK, did you play with Phil Guy ? Did you meet him? Then do something. A radio show, an interview, a concert, whatever. Do something and dedicate it to him.”

Dario, can you also tell us about your own career? Under your name, Dario Lombardo & the Blues Gang…

OK, I started with the band in Turin, with a strange name, we were called “ The Fabulous JB Band ” – “the famous JB band”. It doesn’t mean anything!

JB… as in James Brown? (laughs)

No, no, JB for Jointing Blues. It was… you know… a kind of crazy mix, anyway! (laughs)

That was in the 1980s, something like that?

No, it was in the 1970s, around 1978–1980. At that time, I met musicians in Milan who had another band. It was a very important band for Italian blues, even if it remained fairly obscure, especially because they never recorded anything. But they made history as the first Italian band to go on tour with an American bluesman, a Chicago blues musician. In 1979, they toured with Homesick James.

They were close friends of Tony Mangiullo. At the time, Tony was living in Italy and was a drummer. Today, if you go to Chicago, you can find him at Rosa’s Lounge, which he owns. Rosa is his mother. Tony then moved to Chicago, where he became the link between Homesick James and Giancarlo Crea, the band’s harmonica player. That’s how that concert could happen…

Is that when your path really starts taking shape around Chicago blues?

Yes, I met Giancarlo thanks to “ Rooster ”, Andrea Scagliarini, the harmonica player who is with me tonight. And when I left The Fabulous JB Band, Giancarlo told me: “Why don’t you come to Milan to play with me?” “OK, OK, OK…” I got in my car and drove from Turin to Milan. It’s not too far, anyway… And so we started playing. And my Chicago blues band started moving around. We began going to Piedmont, Lombardy, and Tuscany. Those were the good places…

And then there’s that decisive meeting with an American singer…

Yes, we met a man named Arthur Miles. He was a soul singer from Los Angeles. He came to Italy thanks to a friend, the saxophonist James Thompson, who now plays with Paolo Conte and Zucchero. He was part of the band at the time. James Thompson told him: “OK, Arthur, come to Italy, it’s great! It’s good for the blues, come!” And he came.

One day, we saw an announcement in a magazine: “Tonight, Arthur Miles plays the blues in this club!” So we went to see him. In reality, he was playing more of a club style, not really blues, more ballads. During the break, we went to talk to him and said: “Hey, listen, you play the blues, why not play blues? Let’s play blues!” He answered: “OK, do you want to play with us?” And that’s how it all started.

At that time, it was around 1983–84, up to 1986. The band was then called Arthur Miles & The Blue Shakers. After that, we became Model T Boogie, which naturally led us into the story of Chicago and the blues that comes with it. We recorded two LPs between 1986 and 1990.

And that’s when you make an important decision for the rest of your career…

Yes, with the other guitarist, we had to split up. We had to make a choice. So I created the Blues Gang, and that’s how the adventure began. I asked them: “Are you ready to play with Phil Guy? Or can I play with Phil?…” They answered: “OK, no, we’re not interested. You can play with him…” I said: “OK, thank you very much!” (laughs). That’s how I started with Phil Guy & the Blues Gang.

Today, we have five CDs, plus the one we recorded with Phil, so that makes six CDs under my name. Over the years, there have been several musician changes. But tonight, we have “the Rooster”, Andrea Scagliarini, with me. We’ve been playing together since 1979. It’s a long story, and he’s been in the Blues Gang since 1994.

The rhythm section is completed by Andrea Preto, a younger guitarist, even if today he’s 50. We still call him “Youngblood”: Phil had a nickname for everyone, and this one stuck because he was the youngest. And he still is (laughs).

He’s still the youngest! (laughs)

Yes, it’s “new blood” (laughs). Back then, he was still an underage student and he went through the school where I was working at the time. He started playing, and today he plays very well. He became an excellent blues guitarist, and also a very good singer.

In the rhythm section, we then have bassist Gianluca Martini, who joined us a few years ago. He’s one of the bass players I regularly work with, even if it’s not always the same one. In any case, he’s fully part of the team and we’re playing together tonight. He also played with Phil Guy, and had the chance to work with him back then.

The drummer is almost my age. He’s the most recent arrival in the band, a new recruit, since he’s only been playing with us for a year. As often happens, there have been a few changes in that position over time, two or three drummers have come and gone. It’s Ruggero Solli, from Rome, but living in Turin for many years. He gained solid experience on the Roman blues scene, worked in record sales, and toured with quite a few people. He’s a drummer who can “stay in the pocket” (laughs).

“The blues scene in Italy today is quite distinctive.”

What is the current blues scene like in Italy?

The current blues scene in Italy is quite distinctive. Today we have a lot of blues bands, or bands that claim to be blues, but not all of them necessarily master the basics. Some may know who Muddy Waters was, but still ignore who Elmore James was. Of course, it’s a bit of a provocative remark, but this happens everywhere. Many bands go for a contemporary sound and turn away from the traditional sound. That’s what I observe, anyway.

If we talk about guitarists, most of the younger ones were musically shaped in the era of Stevie Ray Vaughan, or after. So they know that approach to the instrument very well, but sometimes much less Albert King or Muddy Waters, which creates a real problem of musical culture. For a blues guitarist, it’s essential.

Singers also face significant difficulties, because singing the blues means expressing yourself in another language, truly understanding it, and fully projecting yourself into it. It’s not just about singing in English or in American style, but about mastering the language of the blues itself. So we can say there’s still a lot of work to do, and that’s the first step.

That said, there are also very great musicians and very great bands in Italy. They are often artists of my generation, or even older (laughs), because I’m 68 today. I’m not exactly young anymore…

A bit younger, we can also think of Marco Pandolfi, for example?…

Oh yes, absolutely. We still have very good musicians, and Umberto Porcaro is an excellent example. There is real renewal on the scene, with new blood.

That said, the observation remains the following: in many cases, we “work” more efficiently with American musicians. For example, “the Rooster” and I have spent months, sometimes weeks, traveling in the United States with that kind of musician, simply to drive, play, and learn.

Soaking up the music…

Yes, it’s even the essential thing.

I have a lot of affection for Italian blues as well as French blues. We’re no longer in the 60s or 70s: it’s a different era. European blues musicians have grown, they’ve matured. But I have to say I’m tired of hearing women sing I’m a hoochie coochie man. It makes no sense. Koko Taylor sang I’m a hoochie coochie girl.

It may sound a bit harsh, but the intention isn’t negative. On the contrary, it’s because I want to be proud of Italian blues musicians. They shouldn’t sing lyrics that don’t fit them, or things that aren’t true for them.

You mean they have to understand what they’re singing?

Yes, they have to understand what they’re saying. Either they throw in “blalala” with no meaning, or they sing lyrics they don’t master. They learn a text by heart and repeat I’m a hoochie coochie man. But you’re not a man… or maybe you are? (laughs). That’s where the essential point is. If you’re a man, it’s obviously not a problem, but it still has to make sense. I’m joking, of course (laughs), but the core of the issue is real. We are surrounded by great musicians and very good singers, but that understanding remains fundamental.

But some of them need to learn more, you say.

Of course, not all of them. Let’s say the top of the mountain is doing very well. When you look at a mountain, there’s the top and there’s the bottom: the bottom still has to learn, while the top is remarkable (laughs).

Last question, Dario. What are you going to play tonight at the Maison du Blues? Have you already prepared a setlist?

No, no…

You don’t know?

No, no… So I’ll play some of my own songs. Some are traditional, others are reinterpreted or revisited pieces, and there are also traditional shuffles, from the South Side or the West Side. I also perform a few original compositions, especially ballads, in that spirit…

Songs in a minor key?

Yes, ballads in a minor key, in a more modern and contemporary register. I didn’t necessarily want to name names, but we can think of Robert Cray, Joe Louis Walker or Johnny Rawls. That’s the blend I’m looking for: soul and blues brought together (he claps his hands). And then a few standards, of course!

Thank you very much, Dario Lombardo!

And thank you again for this new meeting, 34 years after the previous one!