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The legend says that from a fortuitous clash between the lead singer of the Bee Hive, the blond tufted Mirko, and the rising star Licia, was born one of the most significant musical partnerships of the 20th century, a true meteor in the global music scene that left millions of listeners astonished, and surprised those who, since Nico’s participation in the Velvet Underground’s “banana” album, had been waiting for a combo so powerful it shook the entire music business!
Already, the Bee Hive, headed by the minds of Mirko and Satomi, with the valuable contributions of Paul, Steve, and Matt, had managed with songs like Baby, I love you to achieve a flattering success, but it was only with Licia’s arrival that they made the leap to the Olympus of the Unreachable.
Licia, with her porcelain doll dresses, set a fashion for all the ’80s, a true joy for so many little girls, who thus saw their clay friend’s wardrobe expand. But, as with every great rock band, it’s all the supporting characters around the group that make the difference and imprint the lives of the individual musicians.
Who could forget little Andrea Lauzi, a chubby and curly-haired child, Mirko’s brother and natural son of the great Bruno, from whom he would inherit the curly mane; or the little Grinta, the child with amazonian eyebrows; or, again, Miss Mary, the group’s manager, tough and ruthless, the true metronome of the band’s life; or the big cat Giuliano, a fat cat who slept all day, woke up, pronounced his judgments and went back to sleep, as if to say he was the Romano Prodi of the ’80s; or the great Marrabbio…
Well, we could consider Marrabbio as an additional member, that invaluable asset missing in bands like the Beatles or Rolling Stones, capable of being critical to the point of absurdity, he would raise these kids on a diet of meatballs and Mambo, absolutely indispensable for anyone claiming to be a fan of the Bee Hive. But with Licia, the qualitative rate would grow exponentially. The power pop of the early days, which had caused much envy among the likes of Toto, Foreigner, and Journey, would be replaced by a refined top-chart pop with cryptic and hermetic lyrics that would stir much discussion among music experts.
The track “Quando arrivi tu”, their battle horse, is a splendid fresco of medieval folk, enough to vie with the famous Stairway to Heaven for the coveted award of “song of the century”, only second due to the obscure lyrics that have always been accused of satanism and obscenity.
The phrase “La rugida sull’acero si posa e da bianca scarlatta diverrà” will raise more than a few doubts, but after careful studies and comparisons with other memorable tracks of the band, it seems to contain the first piece of a terrible truth, to be sought, among encrypted codes, throughout their discography: the true secret formula with which Gargamel created Smurfette from nothing!!!!!!
But, problems lurk: after the historic concert at Central Park with guests Simon & Garfunkel, which would mark the peak of their career, drug problems would become unsustainable. The legendary acid cocktails of Marrabbio based on meatballs and coke would exhaust the musicians who, now spinning out of control in the classic triad of sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll, would indulge in every kind of obscenity, including a sad love quadrangle between the doll Licia and Big Jim, Ken, and Plastik Man.
It’s the end: the band dissolved due to musical and personal divergences, some members would form Arriva Cristina, a seminal phenomenon, but not up to the sparkling past, which would have an even shorter life.
Courted by Bob Geldof for the recent Live Aid, organizational reasons excluded the reunion, given the impossibility of hosting the millions of fans sure to attend the historic event. Even the fallback on Pink Floyd clearly has the flavor of a second choice, when anyone would have wanted to see Mirko’s red tuft, faded by the years and excesses, thrash and twist to accommodate the unreachable melodies, or Licia’s bob, forbidden and sticky dream of so many adolescents back then. But let’s not despair: maybe sooner or later, by turning on the TV, on some sultry summer afternoon, we’ll find them there, just as we left them, to let us dream once more.
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