In 1987 they were part of the cast for ‘Ieri, Goggi e Domani’, a ‘preserale’ as the Italians call the programmes in the pre-peek time slot, that went on air on the Raiuno TV channel Monday to Friday. Indeed, this perhaps was the birth of the ‘preserale’ or ‘pre-evening’ concept of programme, at least in the sense in which we were to later think of this type of time-slot. The programme was presented by the truly great Loretta Goggi, an extraordinary working companion. It contained a musical slot entrusted to some famous name, who stayed with the programme all week. A handful of minutes, nothing more, but in total liberty, with plenty of scope for improvisation and obviously, duets with Loretta, who, as usual, never pulled herself back. When we called the Quartetto Cetra I was positively impressed by their availability, enthusiasm and their attachment to their profession. And above all by their humility. They, the great Cetras – I thought – loaded down with glory and success who accept such a short apparition when, still today, they are well worthy of quite other time slots. It was for us all a lesson in style and love for one’s work. One hardly needs to mention how brilliant and amusing they were, even with such restrictions in terms of time and means. The programme went on air live from the Dear Studios and the Cetras were given only two dressing rooms, one for Lucia Mannucci, the lady in the quartet, and the other for Virgilio Savona, Tata Giacobetti and Felice Chiusano. But they didn’t complain, nor did they create any kind of problem. I remember that I used to meet up with Virgilio in the dressing room every day and that we exchanged small gifts. I always turned up with some period newspaper-cutting, or maybe with a record one could no longer buy that he, great collector that he was, was able to well appreciate. One day he gave me one of his books, a book destined to become very rare, that was about the so-called ‘canzone del mare’, a category of songs linked to the sea, which he had for years collected with punctilious precision and a philological taste for committing such information to archive. But the more important gifts I received that week were not the material ones. I remember how I had pinned them down for hours, talking about past events, shedding light on enigmas and encounters in their lengthy career, but also about the whole history of ‘musica leggera’ or ‘lightweight music’ - a term in Italy used to describe non-classical non-pop music - history that they had by then lived through for almost fifty years. Savona, the maestro, was loquacious, always ready to recall the details of every single show; Tata Giacobetti, more timid, tied to a more disenchanted role, used to recall the Cetras’ encounters with the great names of show business; lastly, Felice Chiusano, perhaps the most humorous, specialised in tales tied to their debut, telling stories of hunger, very little money, swindling impresarios, impossible hotels. All Lucia or ‘Cia, as she was usually called, could do was discipline the enthusiasm of these three ribald lads, if possible adding yet more irony in the guise of good nature. But with Virgilio there was somehow a quite special feeling. There were exchanges, confessions, hitherto untold admissions. I heaved out of his memory all that which was, in my judgement, worthy of being kept for posterity, in other words everything. I remember how one day our ramblings fell upon the subject of the Platters, who came to Italy having sold millions of records and at the height of popularity. There was a musical encounter and the Cetras way surpassed them, whilst in recompense Tata had a pleasurable affair with the group’s fake singer, Zola Taylor. He was, after all, the only unmarried member of the Cetras, absolutely terrifyingly thin, with an expression like John Carradine’s in the film ‘Stagecoach’, always ready with a quip. How could one resist him? The Cetras had had as paragons groups such as the Mills Brothers and the Ink Spot, that is to say those Afro-American vocalist groups that laid the way for the Platters. No one could have imagined that those afternoons passed on air live at the Dear Studios were to be the last appearances of the Cetras as performers. But, alas, that is exactly how things went. Just a few months later a violent ictus suddenly killed Tata Giacobetti. A mere two years later, in 1990, Felice Chiusano also left us, he who in the group had done just about everything, from playing the drums to being administrator and cook. The Cetras’ adventure closed there, even if Virgilio and Lucia continued to remind us of the group with guest appearances and conferences. Always with taste and a sense of good measure. Even thought they lived in Milan, they showed me their friendship when I invited them to Rome to take part in ‘Le Indimenticabili’ (The Unforgettable), a radio programme I did together with Aura D’Angelo. In effect, ‘Indimenticabili Cetra’ (Unforgettable Cetra) was to have been the title chosen for their fascinating autobiography. Yes indeed, radio. It at times seems to be impossible to separate the story of the Cetra from that of Italian radio. Tata had founded the group in 1941 together with Enrico De Angelis, Jacopo Jacomelli and Enrico Gentile, but he already knew Virgilio Savona because they used to play a version of the game of billiards together, where one plays without a cue, at the time popular and one they both excelled at. Indeed, it was often he that would make suggestions or set up the musical arrangements. One day Mario Riva managed to get them an audition at Eiar when the very evening before Jacomelli had decided to leave the group. Virgilio Savona was the only one to know the whole repertoire and to have a solid musical background. The audition at Eiar went extremely well but shortly after Enrico Gentile pulled out too. There was no doubt about who should replace him: the choice fell upon Felice Chiusano, who on the radio had imposed himself during the classical programme ‘Ora del Dilettante’ (The Hour of the Amateur) and who had already sung with the Zeme and Segurini orchestras. Lucia Mannucci only joined the group in 1947, when also Enrico De Angelis had decided that “someone with a degree is always better than a singer”. It was thus that Europe’s first mixed voice quartet was born, even if at the time they had stopped being inspired by the Mills Brothers, instead greatly feeling the influence of the Modernaires, who sang with Glenn Miller. The record we present represents what one could describe as the ‘summa’ of the Cetra on radio and of their particular aptitude as satirical performers, forever capable of pulling a song to pieces and putting it back together again in their own way. All the material comes from three radio reviews done between the autumn of 1953 and the summer of 1955: Gite di un Quartetto Vaggiatore, Sassofoni and Vecchie Trombette (The Outings Of A Travelling Quartet/Saxophones/Old Trumpets), that is to say the impossible story of jazz and the truly tiny Quartetto Cetra theatre. The cast was of the highest standard, starting with the authors (Faele and Bernardino Zapponi, as well as of course Giacobetti-Savona), the orchestra conductors (Francesco Ferrari and Guido Cergoli), the arrangement experts (Riz Ortolani and Puccio Roelens) and the very rich list of guests (Lelio Luttazzi, Gorni Kramer, Alberto Sordi, Mario Riva, Riccardo Billi, Enrico Viarisio). Songs, skits, gags and parodies of a very high level, in which the Cetras did not hesitate to propose anew in their own style a variety of materials from various sources, such as Gershwin and Potter, but also the highly classical Jericho in the style of the Golden Boys, or indeed Nat King Cole, certainly one of their great loves. It was indeed Cole who proposed ‘Old Mc Donald Had A Farm’ again, a reworking of an old Irish folk song, a Celtic ballad taken to America by the first immigrants at the end of the XIX century, transforming it into a song for children. Tata picked up that record of Cole’s at the Porta Portese flee market in Rome and in 1949 it became the song ‘Nella Vecchia Fattoria’ (In the Old Farm), a great success, such a mark of quality and swing that it identified the group for years. Their skill was that of adding countless little gags, a new incisive musical style, which went up a semitone at the start of each verse. Their success was outstanding, their swing inexhaustible, to the point that the many editions that succeeded one another across the years, Frank Sinatra’s to begin with, were more inspired by the Cetras’ version than Cole’s, judged to be too sophisticated. In our record, the Cetras face Cole in ‘Route 66’, a great success of his (and, to be fair, also of the Rolling Stones), which in their skilful hands became ‘Pasquà qua se tratta de faticà’ (Pascal This Is A Case Of Having To Work Hard). Irresistible. As was often the case in those days, the repertoire was tested live at length and the Cetras did so all the time, both in nightclubs and at shows, on television and in theatre. But they did so above all with their radio repertoire, decidedly novel when compared to all the rest. The songs on this record were given a running-in during a long tour in Argentina that the four embarked upon in the summer of 1954, dividing their time between concerts at the ‘El Nacional’ Theatre, participation in programmes on ‘Radio Splendid’, recordings for the local label ‘Pampa’ and countless jamming sessions with Latin percussionists, comedians and dancers. It was there, in new and unconventional circumstances, where that fantasy used to explode, where the Cetras musical talents were enriched, where everything took on a creative dimension. This is material of historic worth, but first hand, which gives us the opportunity of listening to those songs of the Cetras it is always a pleasure to listen to. It is for this reason that it was right to publish it.