Dick Dale! Let's Go Trippin'! Riders in The Sky! Banzai Washout! Shake-N-Stomp! The Wedge! Taco Wagon (exceptional rendition)! Dick-fucking-Dale!
House of the Rising Sun! Hey, Bo Diddley! Pipeline! Folsom Prison Blues/Ring of Fire! California Sun! Fever! Smoke On The Water! And...wait for it...Link Wray’s Rumble!
“Where am I?” And the crowd responded “Rome,” to which Dick replied, “No, I’m in Heaven!” Dick, you sly dog!
Actually, with the packed house at Locanda Atlantide and no air conditioning to speak of (a few ceiling fans, turned on about mid-show), it felt like Hell!
Problems with his mike tonight. His vocal was almost buried in the mix. At one point he gave the sound man a lesson on using the mixer's EQ. He then says to the sound man “More high end...make me sound like a special guy.” To which I had to respond, audibly, “But you are a special guy!”, which got a smile out of him and the band (who were right behind him all the way, Brian and Richie, if i remember correctly).
And of course his most-recognized hit here in Italy, thanks to Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, Misirlou. He even introduced it: “Hey, what's this song?” doing an impression of John Travolta dancing the Watusi! It was at this point i left my spot at near-front-center for the bar for the tourists and met up with my friends Paolo, Francesca...and Jack.
Of course there was more. I can only remember so much. I believed he played for about three songs more.
Dick Dale. Eyein’ and dealin’ the ladies at age 72! Dick Dale, doin’ the sonic version of Hitchcock’s Rope: it seemed like four or five songs the whole night because one thing just segued into another! Played for an hour and a half, maybe more, he was relaxed as hell, California laid-back, and did what the hell he wanted the whole time. He played the Strat, the trumpet and even duoed on the drums. He even took the sticks to his bassist’s bass! Dick Dale!
What? Of course there’re pictures (forgive my cameraphone)!
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