CCCP the Imprisonment of Melancholy

It's a last call, the epilogue of a period that is celebrated as a historical memory of a past. Joy Division would have called it New Dawn Fades. But this is not the dawn fading; it's rather a beautiful sunset with warm and blurred colors where all the sensitivity of the painter emerges, who despite being 72 years old and having lived a life full of contradictions (more often in the judgment of others), displays a very vivid clarity. It is no coincidence, and not only for obvious age reasons, that the audience that gathered in the beautiful setting of Legnano had an average age over 45. This is not a propitiatory exhibition The rites of access to the world of CCCP are now more than 40 years away from their debut with at least two musical generations having passed in the meantime. The message of CCCP remains shockingly relevant. There is no new repertoire, but there is a worthy soubrette who, with intelligence and wit in an Emilian accent against any stereotype, slang, or Anglo-Saxon acronym, introduces the various sections of the concert. The songs in the setlist are the perfect representation of their career, even if sometimes they are presented in a more polished and not abrasive way as they were originally. Zamboni's guitar remains always raw, but with a rhythm section that is honestly too full, which loses the magic of the early electronic drums. What Ferretti & Co offer us is a historical and anthology journey: all their jewels. Everything is arranged in a different sequence from last year's tour with a focus on more than half of the set on Ortodossia with Punk Islam, Spara Juri, Mi ami. There's room for Fatur's divertissement with Vota Fatur from Canzoni, Preghiere e Danze del II Millennio, Time is given to the Emiliano philosophical Soviet punk of Battagliero sung by everyone at the top of their lungs, preceded by Tu Menti, Emilia Paranoica, Morire, Curami, Noia as if this were a recipe mixing benzodiazepines with Prozac. There is also the acknowledgment of their Catholic journey, the importance of the Vesper ritual and the rosary (which Ferretti magnificently described in the book Ora – Difendi Conserva Prega in antithesis to Produci Consuma Prega) with Libera me domine and Madre simply breathtaking. Simply everything. But here my Saudade grows...and it's not just me...as if I'm definitively losing something that belongs to the soul, but you have to let it go, like a finished love that will remain eternal even if you can no longer live it. Here, I am helped to understand La Grande Bellezza when, in Verdone's monologue, he says, "what do you have against nostalgia, huh? It's the only pastime left for those who are wary of the future, the only one." It ends, amidst tears, with "Amandoti."

For me, I know: it is really so.

"In an eternal present, which you don’t know how to understand
The last time never comes
The last time never comes
In this present that you don’t know how to understand"

The last time has come

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