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Rating: To my right, a distinguished man in his fifties, accompanied by his emotional wife. In front of me, a young man with long curly hair, rowdy, almost annoying. Around, several girls but also many adults. A couple of meters away, a seemingly vulgar character, with flashy earrings and a smile caressed by drugs. Yet, during the concert, he mellowed into a cocoon of introspection, focusing on the lyrics and forgetting the concert high.
The heart of the event, the band's absolute finest but also one of the most challenging songs, was warmly received, sung by the audience almost like the most radio-friendly hits. A diverse and intelligent audience, that sang various pieces at the top of their lungs without overshadowing Bianconi or Rachele. Sunday night at the Alcatraz thus yielded a dual outcome, confirming the increasingly commendable live prowess of the band and highlighting the other half, equally important, of any concert, the audience.
Bianconi, wonderfully cold, snobbish, unpleasant as he rightfully should be. He presented himself with a fur coat that well honors the style of their last two albums. Supported by a plethora of musicians, they offered mostly their most recent works, accentuating their musically exquisite, I would say progressive side, yet without diminishing the paramount importance of their lyrics. And this is the most comforting aspect: people attend their concerts mainly for the words, to be moved by the decadent and slightly cynical narratives, to vent a desire to live that has reckoned with blind pessimism and survived. Rising stronger.
"Life is tragic, life is stupid, yet it is beautiful, because it is useless." The Milanese want to hear this, in perfect emotional sharing with the brooding singer from Montepulciano who avoids speaking too much, preferring to make only a few caustic comments about love and the violence it does to us.
A few pieces from the older repertoire, rearranged as if for a predominantly musical discomfort towards their early career phase. Some songs suffer quite a bit, because the band no longer feels them as they used to, in terms of rhythmic diction and sound textures. They are much less refined songs, this is evident. And so a concert like this is the perfect litmus test to understand once again the beautiful evolution of Rachele and companions.
It's a shame to lose the train of thought, the macro-text, by alternating the tracks and no longer replaying the exact sequence of the album, as they did last year. But there is nonetheless a notable thematic cohesion, which reaches its sublimation with "Nessuno," the definitive word on romantic life: "E dammi figli e oscenità / E tenerezza e dignità / Non ho amato mai nessuno come te." On Sunday in Milan, this gigantic song transfigured. Low lights and icy synthesizers for a secular prayer, from those who do not believe "in the sky or even in hell."
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