Album Review: Il Principe by Riccardo Fassi Tankio Band Featuring Steve Grossman
Alright, let’s dive into this gem from 1989. Il Principe is one of those albums that sneaks up on you—no flashy gimmicks, just solid jazz vibes brewed in Italy and served with a side of soul. Released under Splasc(h) Records, it's got that Contemporary Jazz flair but feels like an old friend you didn’t know you had.
The lineup? Insane. You’ve got Steve Grossman blowing tenor sax like he owns the place (because, well, he kinda does), Riccardo Fassi tickling those keys like a maestro, and a whole crew of Italian musicians bringing their A-game. Joy Garrison even pops in for vocals on "Sammy And Bahati (Theme)," which adds this cool, unexpected twist. Oh, and props to Peppo Spagnoli for producing and designing the cover—it’s simple yet sticks with you, much like the music itself.
Now, about the tracks. There are two I can’t stop thinking about: “Il Principe” and “Acquamarina.”
“Il Principe,” the title track, kicks things off strong. It’s moody, mysterious, almost cinematic. The horns swell in a way that feels like walking through a foggy street at night—equal parts eerie and beautiful. Then there’s Riccardo Fassi’s piano solo; dude knows how to build tension without overdoing it. Like, you’re vibing along, and suddenly BAM—you’re hooked. That moment where the rhythm section locks in with the brass? Pure magic. Feels like everyone in the band is having a conversation, but instead of words, they're speaking in notes.
Then there’s “Acquamarina.” This one hits different. It starts soft, almost dreamy, thanks to Massimo Moriconi’s basslines and Fabio Zeppetella’s guitar work. But halfway through, something shifts. Maybe it’s Riccardo Luppi’s flute or the way the percussion subtly creeps in—it’s hard to pin down, but it gives me goosebumps every time. By the end, it’s less of a song and more of an experience. You don’t just listen to it; you live it.
What strikes me most about Il Principe is its balance. These guys aren’t trying too hard to impress anyone—they’re just playing what feels right. No ego trips, no unnecessary frills. Even when Steve Grossman takes center stage (and trust me, he does), it never feels forced. He blends seamlessly with the rest of the band, adding layers rather than overshadowing them.
Oh, random thought: Did anyone else notice how many instruments Massimo Moriconi plays? Dude handles both electric and acoustic bass like it’s nothing. Makes me wonder if he ever sleeps.
In the end, Il Principe isn’t perfect—it doesn’t need to be. Its imperfections make it human, relatable. Listening to it feels like eavesdropping on a jam session where everyone’s totally in sync. Honestly, if contemporary jazz had a cozy little hideout in the late '80s, this album would be its secret clubhouse.
Final verdict? If you’re into jazz that tells stories without needing lyrics, grab yourself a copy of Il Principe. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself zoning out during “Acquamarina”—that one might steal your soul. Or at least your afternoon.
