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Rating: “Line up on the other sides, there's no space here, I can't breathe!”
The Milanese lady, owner of one of the many stalls on the sides of the concert area, complains behind the cash register overflowing with banknotes of every type. There's plenty of people at Rock in Idrho (with an "h" this year); I believe the organization can speak of success. And in the middle of the week! The sun assists us, kissing us all the time, even though when the gates open – an hour and a half later than expected – you would've appreciated some clouds. Already, the road to get to the designated area is too long: the fair must be circumvented completely along the perimeter to get to the place in question. The fair is a huge complex of structures and pavilions, and the north area is where the concert is held. By evening, it will be packed with people from all over.
The first notes sound around three, when two unannounced acts (perhaps winners of some contest, I don't know, but strangely the frontmen do not introduce themselves) warm up the atmosphere. At ten to four, the first stars of the day: the Ministri take the stage, and the energy already feels different, you can hear it in the volumes. Among the songs are “Mangio la terra”, “Noi fuori”, the beautiful “Tempi bui” and closing with “Abituarsi alla fine”. Fifteen minutes break and Irish sounds can be heard during the soundcheck.
“Who’s playing now?”
“Boh, the Froggin' something...”
“Who are they?”
“Chill stuff.”
Seems true. A joker with a tie named Dave King greets us from the stage and his band starts playing. Flogging Molly: Celtic sounds, punk rhythms and wild pogo for what is effectively Irish core, a cross between Gogol Bordello and Pogues. Madness. I had never heard of them, but for forty-five minutes they set the air on fire making the audience jump and giving the event the first right dose of adrenaline.
From this point of view, the half-hour of the succeeding Band of Horses is the dullest and most out of place. Perhaps the only off-key note in the lineup (are they your friends, Dave?) although this honest post-grunge band also plays well, they totally lack stage presence.
At 18:40, the area is now an anthill and a summer breeze does not have time to dry the sweat left by the performance of the Celtic-Californians when The Hives, from Sweden, come on stage. Needless to say, their cheerful garage punk revives the crowd and everyone is dancing again incited by Pelle Almqvist, appearing on stage in a top hat and smocking. Great entertainers, too bad the set design (the letters “H-I-V-E-S” Hollywood sign style) isn’t used as a pretext for any light show.
After them, I have to catch my breath for a moment, so I go get a beer (and squeeze my shirt a bit), so I can't say much about Social Distortion, except that they play for an hour and that many of those present – especially among the more “mature” – are there for them. I'm told that they lived up to their fame. We return to the crowd especially for Iggy Pop and the Stooges. The sun has almost set by now, and the density among the audience has greatly increased. After a lot of technician traffic on stage, at a quarter past nine among lights, the Iguana pops up. Immediately at three thousand, he writhes on stage while the Stooges play “Raw Power”. Boys! Three hundred years in five and they play like twenty-year-olds, their energy spreads from the stage hypnotizing us. Iggy moves like a demon, greets us with the middle finger, sings “Search and Destroy” and invites some fans up on stage, then showers, breaks the microphone stand, and hints at a stage dive to the notes of “I wanna be your dog”. Then by spinning the microphone over his head he tries to kill his band and part of the front-row audience. A show! Almost an hour of show in pure punk style, in the end, it is impossible not to get excited. “I can tell you Arrivederci or I can tell you Kiss my ass!” and concludes the show with “No Fun”. Iggy is ignorance made music, an honorable mention for him. You have to see him live at least once in your life.
After this, a crowd of people prepares to set the stage for the kings of the evening. Right on time at 22:30, the lights go down and the intro of “Bridge Burning” is heard. I'm twenty meters from the stage, just behind the reserved area, and it's impossible to move. You can't even pogo; it's more like being in the middle of a stormy sea: the mass comes at you from everywhere, almost not giving you time to breathe, and pushes you simultaneously in every direction. At a certain point, I fear I’ll end up without pants. “Rope” fires us up even more, and after that comes Dave’s greeting, on stage in a black shirt, the Foos in a six-piece formation with a keyboardist. They follow with “The Pretender”, “My Hero”, “Learn to Fly”, and then panic breaks out on “White Limo” (and there I necessarily move).
Dave and the others are in great shape: he is a perfect stage animal. His voice is much better than many live performances I've heard on YouTube, and the songs are performed perfectly. There’s a lot of “historic” repertoire (“Breakout”, “I'll stick around, “Monkey Wrench”, “Generator”) and they even gift us a jam on “Stacked Actors”. I didn't think they were that good live, I’ve changed my mind about all of them, especially about Taylor Hawkins, a real machine: not only power but also a lot of precision in keeping the rhythm. And moreover, much, much warmth in the performance, see the skits with Grohl during “Young Man Blues” (what an appropriate song for the contemporary Italian scenario!) At one point, the blonde drummer sings “Cold day in the sun”; of course the voice is what it is but he’s forgiven.
However, the emotional peak of the evening is given to us by Grohl staying on stage for a semi-acoustic version of “Times like These”, eventually joined by the rest of the band. “We’ll play until they tell us to go away.” promises Dave, and the show goes on, until, after two hours of performance, we are bid farewell to the notes of “Everlong”. Here is rock today. The real one, powerful and direct, the one that makes you jump (and skip) and makes your blood run through your veins, gets you scratched by the sweat of the crowd while you endure the wave returning blow for blow. I remember when not many years ago, if you talked about Foo Fighters, there were still people who turned up their noses remembering Grohl as “ah, the drummer of Nirvana!” and said they would never be a stadium anthem band. Try telling that today, to the thirty thousand who on Wednesday were shouting:
“Done done and onto the next one done I'm done and I'm onto the next...”
Setlist FF:
Bridge is burning
Rope
The Pretender
My Hero
Learn to Fly
White Limo
Arlandria
Breakout
Cold day in the sun
I'll stick around
Stacked Actors
Walk
Monkey Wrench
Let it Die
Generator
Times like These
Young Man Blues
Best of You
Skin and Bones
All my Life
Tie Your Mother Down
Everlong
(Photo by Laura Colarieti)
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