Like most of you, Bruce’s music entered my life when I was a teen, and stayed with me during the times that shape your character, the hard times when you begin to understand that life will, and eventually would, kick you down.

I’m a musician, my first instrument of choice were the drums, I’m a Conservatory graduate, I played all over Europe and America, and Bruce’s music was there with me, in my walks on the beach, during my car travels, before going to sleep.

Then my life moved in another direction, I had to stop playing. But I was not satisfied, I wanted to do something, I wanted to go back playing on stage, with something compelling, powerful, that kept me alive both on stage and in my everyday life.

Bruce was on tour in that year, it was 2012, and while I was there seeing him singing and laughin under the rain I decided that if I had to go back on stage I had to it with him, and I started the project for my Bruce’s cover band. It’s a constant, endless work, that never will have an end, because we play the music of one of the best prolific artist in the world. And it’s amazing, just playing this music is a gift. I’m grateful for my band and my friends in this travel, they’re the best people I could ever have with me.

But there’s also a better thing, one I didn’t know could happen to us. During these two years I’ve met a lot of people, of course, and some of them came back to see us, and some came back at every show. And with them came this special connection, we all love Bruce’s music, it’s an essential part of our lives, and when we sing together this bond runs very deep. It’s fantastic, and unique, and I never feel alone in this passion, no more. Sometimes they write to me, or we speak after a show, and it’s so good to be a part of a human chain of values in most cases lost for the rest of the world. I know it sounds corny, but it’s true: you don’t bring your families and children to each rock show you attend, but if there’s Bruce’s music, you do. That means something.