In my childhood I “played” the tennis racket to the sounds of Beatles records, incessantly.

After some time spent in New York playing music and working, I returned to my homeland of Italy and, at the age of 21, I released his first record with “Jeremy’s Joke” (Sentemo-Bmg). I wrote, played and sang, and found myself in a large production without ever having played a single concert and after submitting only one demo to one person. Such an opportunity – all expenses paid, a mega-studio and an American producer (Gary Wagner) – was a dream for someone who didn’t have any prior professional experience. My band, Jeremy’s Joke, with its brand of rock that was full of energy, viscerality and fusion of styles, attained top reviews, vibrant concerts, and many miles on the road.

When that endeavor came to a close, I began to work on a record that was much more pop. In the most unexpected and random turn of events, once again just one demo was all it took to land a contract in Milan, with an important producer who provided a recording studio and advance pay to facilitate the transition between projects. My work increasingly showed up on the radar of movers and shakers in the industry, who compared his style to musical contemporaries such as Daniele Silvestri, Max Gazzè and Alex Britti.

the Lobster in the Space – the pop years

As often happens in the course of creative careers, the road to success is fraught with detours, and my journey was no exception. After signing a contract and putting in hours of work on a record, everything seemed ready for a perfect launch. And yet, due to exploitative industry politics, the new album “The Lobster in Space” ended up in no-man’s land and never made it to the market.

The pointless waiting, the frustration, and the inability to take action all contributed to finding myself in a depressive black hole, which affected me deeply. After some years of feeling lost and lacking direction, one morning while waking up from the usual hangover, a documentary on horses in Tuscany caught my attention and gave rise to a creative rebirth, reactivating an old passion for horses from my childhood when I used to watch wild horses galloping through the American prairies.

I loaded camp gear and a sleeping bag into my car and wandered through Tuscany looking for work with horses, as a way of fulfilling a childhood dream and recovering what was left of myself. But no one gives work to someone with no experience. Almost no one. The hippie owner of a partially abandoned ranch presented an unimaginable stroke of luck for me, and I found myself living and working with horses and learning everything about their world. That old passion, the infinite hours in the saddle, and the total immersion in nature were the spark of a new beginning. I worked as a horseback riding guide in Wyoming, Botswana, and South Africa. Then, at the age of 38, I graduated from a veterinary university with honors in equine science, with a thesis on barefoot horses and equine podiatry. My professional activities then followed this new direction, restoring well-being to my daily life and creativity.

Some time later, in a twist of fate, a tipsy movie director wound up obtaining my name as a composer for the soundtrack of a new documentary on equine-assisted therapy. In one moment, the dissonant pieces of my life converged, as music, horses, and powerful personal journey came together in harmony to offer a new context for writing, playing and recording, including musical scores for theatrical productions. The long periods spent in America reemerged in my artistic output and, little by little, took shape as “The Electric Horseman”- a new album produced together with a longtime fellow musician, Pippo Monaro.