Goblin - Seven Notes In Red

Steep Bread

Goblin - Seven Notes In Red
by Fabio Capuzzo
Ajna Bound ISBN: 9780972182096

Goblin - Seven Notes In Red was a very expensive book to import over from the United States and I’d just about given up trying to find a copy which didn’t have an unbelievably hefty post and packing charge. However, that’s when I found Norman Records in Leeds, who were shipping the book at a fraction of the postage and, although it admittedly took them around 6 months or more to get it, I am very grateful to them for managing to obtain this relatively rare (at least in the UK) edition of what is, pretty much, the only book about the famous band Goblin that is available and translated into the English language.

Okay so, it has to be said... grateful as I was to have finally acquired a copy, I was less than enthusiastic about the contents. I actually started reading this, admittedly weighty, tome last year and got to a point where I was so fatigued by the writing style that I actually took a break from it and returned to it this year. I don’t usually leave any book I start unfinished but, I have to admit, that’s the first time I’ve ever felt the need to take a break. So, yeah, it’s probably the most boring book on music I’ve ever had to read (so far) and that’s a shame because the band Goblin, known best for their scores for Italian genre films such as their work for Dario Argento on Profondo Rosso (Deep Red), Suspiria and, okay I’m going to call it even though they weren’t allowed to call themselves Goblin for this recording, Tenebrae.

Now, I don’t want to knock Fabio Capuzzo, the writer of this impressively thorough tome because, frankly, the amount of research that has gone into this book is incredible. Also, although I found his writing style incredibly dull, this might not actually be his fault because it was originally an Italian book and it’s clearly been translated into English. Now, I’ve had a lot of problems with things translated from Italian in the past... usually soundtrack CD liner notes... but this book doesn’t read much better than some of the slaughtered sentences one finds on a lot of those, it has to be said. There are a heck of a lot of ‘list sentences’ in the book where the author will reel off a list of things which a particular person or band has worked on and some of these, believe it or not, go on for over a page. And that’s just for a single sentence! This is coupled with the fact that the large majority of these are listing titles or films or albums or song titles in Italian... and the amount of unwieldy, long Italian names, really isn’t a good thing to get too bogged down with if you want the reader to continue the journey of the book, methinks.

Okay so, despite a writing style that makes you want to throw your hands up in despair (and drop the book and lose your place when you are doing so)... it’s actually a very, very detailed, at least in terms of facts about band line ups and collaborations, look at the band’s quite convoluted history. Goblin over the years is... very complicated. The figurehead I always have in my mind for Goblin is maestro Claudio Simonetti but he hasn’t always been part of the group, coming and going as much of the rest of the line up, which seems to have been in an almost constant fluid state since the band’s beginnings as Oliver and then Cherry Five. These personalities were constantly clashing and the friction between the band members saw a lot of moving to and from other bands in the crazy Goblin timeline. Put it this way, I thought there were now two separate versions of the band Goblin in rivalry with each other producing albums at the moment. I was wrong... there are currently four (at the time this book was updated and translated into English over a year ago) incarnations of the band out there at present... and I don’t think that includes Simonetti’s wonderful tribute band Daemonia or the ‘resurrected with a different line up’ group who have inherited the name Cherry Five. It’s confusing to say the least.

Fans of Argento and other Italian directors will find a little to get their teeth into here but there’s not so many of the kind of entertaining anecdotes about the directors or working on the scores to these things as you might expect. This book is more or less focused just on the music and each Goblin album mentioned includes a track by track critical take of the contents, followed by critical responses to any bonus tracks or remasters added by various record companies (more often than not, Cinevox) over the years. There’s also a fair but of criticism for Cinevox actually, which I wasn’t expecting since I’ve always thought they were quite good with getting Goblin albums out there. These track by track critiques can also be quite wearing, however... one wonders how many times one can read about a ‘slicing guitar’ before one gives up on the text for a while (well, not long as it turned out in my case... I had a long rest between starting and finishing this tome).

However, if you are heavily into Goblin, you will almost certainly find this an invaluable reference work and it also has a full, long and very detailed discography at the back of the book where every conceivable release from these band members is faithfully highlighted. The design of the book is fine with a lovely cover of various versions of the logos and a fair amount of pictures used to slice up sections of the text at various points on the interior of the book. I did catch one sentence where the leading had split the lines by being much greater but one case of a forgotten ‘soft return’ is not that big in the scheme of things and so this element of the book, at least, is well in order. As for the title... why is it that people who write about a specific subsection of Italian cinema seem to title their work with something which is very specifically from a completely different work. For example, Tim Lucas’ truly excellent tome on Mario Bava is called All The Colours Of The Dark... except All The Colours Of The Dark was a famous giallo directed by Sergio Martino, not Mario Bava. Similarly, I can only assume the title of this book, Seven Notes In Red, is a satire of the Lucio Fulci film title Seven Notes in Noir (or Seven Notes In Black aka The Psychic)... which didn’t have a soundtrack by Goblin at all so... you know... go figure.

At the end of the day, Goblin - Seven Notes In Red is pretty much a book for die hard Goblin fans only but, being as it’s the only game in town as far as book bound information about this group goes, you might want to keep this one handy on the shelf until any other works on the band come along.