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Rating: This review is dedicated to Flo, who on zerodue wrote a review of a live performance, while yours truly, almost a year later, despite the promise, hasn't managed to write a thing. You managed to spur me on.
My memories are a bit blurry now. Much time has passed and they say that unpleasant things are the first you forget or try to forget. I'll share the little I still remember, just to keep the promise.
Between 8:30 and 9:00 PM, the venue is not that crowded. There's someone who, looking like a barracuda out of water, smokes a couple of cigarettes without drinking a vodka Redbull, and someone else wearing a Lenin shirt in a punk style who plays in one of the evening's bands. In the corner to the right of the entrance, there's a couple that's no longer a couple for a few minutes. But soon after, the two will kiss again for no reason. Finally, there's me, Carlos. I see the cigarette guy watching the couple, but then he disappears, and I never see him again. Extro, while his ex-girlfriend is still sitting at the table, talks with Gnagnera and compliments him on the Lenin shirt. After a short and justified contribution, the concert begins.
Now I should tell you about all the bands in the order they played, the songs they performed, how they seemed to me, etc... it might be due to the galloping Alzheimer's or the reasons mentioned in the first paragraph, but I can't do it. I'll try. After all, it wasn't just a concert. It was an experience I'll never forget! The Catechism 13 are a bunch of musicians dressed as beekeepers, with unusual instruments, and a member who bids farewell to his band simply by stopping playing and leaving the stage. Chaos and noise, covers of famous songs (like Duke Of Earl, the only one I clearly remember), whose form is distorted in a new wave/garage style. Among these tracks, a leitmotif repeats endlessly, which in its absurdity has a Wagnerian power, a leitmotif that accompanies you forever, even if you've never heard it or don't like it, but it's always there with you. It's today's man's leitmotif. The Catechism only remind you of it. MONGOLOID!
I've always thought that we humans are no different from animals except for a certain number of additional brain functions. Consider unfortunate Extro: he believes in Love and that there are rational problems behind the fact that he's no longer with his girlfriend. He believes he's different from a peacock rejected by a female. He believes that what's pushing him towards someone is the need to love and be loved, while in reality, it's just his superb reasoning reassuring him so he doesn't remember he's just a damn peacock in heat that needs to drop his seed somewhere. HE WAS A MONGOOOLOOOOIIID! Luckily, I'm not like him, and I rightfully look down on him and happily stay apart, enjoying the music. HAPPIEEER THAN YOOOU AND MEEEE! The Devo become a singular, sweet, and unmistakable melody, better than classical music. The instruments seem as one entity, and I can no longer distinguish them as they're so merged into this supreme melody. I'm there listening to all the other songs just to hear MOOONGOLOOOID again! I'm aroused and would like to do something about it from the excitement, but I wouldn't want to embarrass myself: a blonde girl taller than me looks at me with her blue eyes and kisses me. Maybe the next day, she plans to return it, you never know with women. Suddenly their concert ends. I don't know how, but that's how it is. People slowly start leaving, leaving only HE WAS A MONGOLOOOOID Extro, his ex, the members of the other two groups, and me in the concert area.
The Sniperdogs and the Cock-fighters (disbanded in September 2013, after releasing their only album "Il Disagio...E Le Fallite Vendette") I know personally and have seen them perform often. Between surf-garage and rock 'n' roll they've rocked as usual. They give their best when the audience from their city cheers them on and enjoys their racket. However, this time it's not the night. The audience is non-existent, and it's as if the Catechism have never stopped playing. One after the other, they do their dirty work, but there's the echo of MONGOLOID that overshadows them. I hear the sounds, the riffs, the rhythms, the voices, but I don't appreciate them. I feel discomfort and embarrassment, like when you have to spend some time with someone who just dumped you. Never been with just three (excluding the band members) at a concert.
Everything has its end, and so does the evening at Ligera. I return to the car and am desperate. I glance at the blonde girl sitting next to me and feel a slight pain under my sternum. IT DETERMINED WHAT HE COULD SEEEE! Without saying a word, I start the car and drive off. I look in the rearview mirror like Travis at the end of Taxi Driver and see that I still have my white beard, straw hat, blue checkered shirt, and as always, behind me is the sea. The problem is, I'm no longer myself. I'm not even Robert De Niro. I'm simply someone else. How did that guy say? "In the same river we step and do not step; we are and are not"?
PS: I don't know if you've heard the latest Pet Shop Boys, but just know it's awesome (scandalous that there's still no review on Debaser).
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