(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)

Joe Satriani, an Italian-American born and raised in New York, had been a humble teacher in Berkeley since 1978, giving lessons to future Bay Area stars such as Kirk Hammett, Steve Vai, and Larry Lalonde.

Already the owner of a self-titled EP (Rubina, 1985), self-produced at his home in Berkeley and later reissued in the anthology Time Machine (Combat, 1993), Satriani suddenly gained recognition with Not Of This Earth (Relativity, 1986).

A student of jazz pianist Lennie Tristano, and in turn a teacher to Steve Vai and many other rock guitarists, Satriani performs instrumental pieces leading an atypical power trio (two drum tracks and one guitar, layered multiple times).
Mostly, these are simple, singable themes such as Not Of This Earth and Memories, executed by a virtuoso of nuance; but stylistic tour de force pieces like The Snake and The Enigmatic, where the guitar performs an almost infinite number of timbral evolutions over a danceable base—from atonal to soul—push beyond convention, bordering on a form of minimalism.
The final emotions are reserved for the impressionistic tracks, those that attempt to sonically render feelings and images: in Driving At Night, the rhythm conveys the sense of movement, a breath of synth creates a nocturnal atmosphere, and the guitar gives the sensation of objects rushing past the eyes; Hordes Of Locusts takes this “style” to almost baroque heights, simulating the march of threatening swarms in the main riff and an Arabian-flavored melody in the lower phrasing. With great nonchalance, Satriani effectively reinvents instrumental rock, leaving the lead guitar to “sing” his songs.

It is, however, the subsequent Surfing With The Alien (Relativity, 1987) that establishes him as the “guitar hero” of his generation. In general, the sound becomes more hard rock (Ice 9, Lords Of Karma), abandoning, in a sense, the refined picking of the past in favor of a more spectacular style. The album’s signature track, destined to become Satriani’s hallmark, is a powerful heavy metal riff launched at supersonic speed, counterpointed by an equally thunderous bass riff. The “singability” remains (especially in the long Crushing Day and Echo, closest to his debut), but the harmonies are certainly reinforced, tempos are generally faster, and bass parts are often foregrounded. In this new perspective, the supersonic Satch Boogie, reminiscent of ZZ Top, is unsurprising, and becomes one of the cornerstones of his career.
His extravagant chord progressions are now in service of arena rock, not just the drawing-room of critics. His guitar work is no longer an exercise in exploring the instrument’s expressive possibilities—it is a demonstration of them.

After the live mini-album Dreaming No. 11 (Combat, 1988), featuring The Crush Of Love in his romantically “singable” style, his third album, Flying In A Blue Dream (Relativity, 1989), presents a couple of surprises: Satriani sings (notably in the ballad I Believe) and pays homage to popular music genres (the blues of The Phone Call, the funk of Strange), relegating his famous melodic solos (The Forgotten and The Bells Of Lal) to the end of the album. The results, however, are mediocre. The strongest moments come from the “hard” side: Satriani dives headfirst into ZZ Top-style boogie in Big Bad Moon and the short (but no less astonishing) Headless, and displays his jazz-rock claws in the dizzying solo of Back To Shalla Bal. Demonstrating that his talent is far from faded, his hyper-virtuosic arpeggios permeate The Mystical Potato Head Groove Thing, while his legato playing catapults One Big Rush into the same firmament as Surfing With The Alien. The album, uneven and oscillating between genius and banality, shows an artist who fundamentally does not trust his own talent and seeks inspiration in others.

The Extremist (Combat, 1992) retains the worst elements of that previous work while ignoring the positives. The result is a series of sterile ego exercises (Friends, Summer Song), a soul sonata (Crying with another spectacular solo), and an imitation of Paco DeLucia (Tears In The Rain).

Joe Satriani (Relativity, 1995) marks a return to the great instrumental tradition of rock and roll, but in many tracks it is noticeable that Satriani has lost some of the verve (though certainly not the dexterity) of his youth (Cool #9, Down, Down, Down).

Crystal Planet (Epic, 1998) exudes an almost new-age spirituality, and it is curious to hear hard-rock riffs, rather than celestial keyboards, accompanying his serenades (Raspberry Jam Delta-V, Ceremony is the frenzied dance of the moment).

Less innovative of contemporary guitarists such as Adrian Belew and Nicky Skopelitis, Satriani was a heir of the classical tradition of Jeff Beck, Billy Gibbons (ZZ Top) and (at best) Robert Fripp.

Engines of Creation (2000) contains Devil's Slide, Flavor Crystal 7, Borg Sex, Until We Say Goodbye, Clouds Race Across The Sky.

Chickenfoot I (2009) marked the debut of a supergroup with Sammy Hagar on vocals, Michael Anthony on bass and Red Hot Chili Peppers' drummer Chad Smith.