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Rating: Oh well...
The other night we celebrated Fra's official entry into the turbulent club of the -sixties, finally. In the morning, excited for him, I sent him a little WhatsApp message ''Hey, big guy! How do you feel?'' ''Like shit... the hacked free Brazzers account isn't working anymore, damn!!!''
It's a tough world...
Turning thirty is a milestone for everyone. I know they've always told you that, but I wanted to confirm the concept: it's true. You see people around you changing for work, changing for women, changing to get rid of the mayor, changing because they're convinced that at thirty you MUST change, due to some fictitious but equally compelling rule whose non-observance would result in the loss of one's masculinity. ''We're not kids anymore, come on. Act seriously, we're thirty!'' People who used to blast the car stereo at astronomical volumes even just to straighten it in the Hypermarket parking lot now won't go to a concert even if it’s for free in their living room (since with Netflix I can indulge on demand Monday morning while on parental leave...)
That’s why it’s important to constantly remember who we are, where we come from, and, most importantly, where we want to crash.
And the other night it was Andrea's shadowed house's turn. After all, we couldn't do otherwise; the special occasion deserved a worthy celebratory location, considering also the not negligible fact that it's bailout time and meal vouchers need to be preserved for the usual raids at ‘’Il Lercio’’ Trattoria, or at least for the 7-speed curling iron on offer at Conad. So... profusely feasting among the 147 square meters of attic in B/8 was a sensory, almost mystical, experience, in the sense that the host writhed the whole time praying to whichever God so that my forearm, in its wild adventures, would never cross the path of the Murano glass collection placed right behind the seat (but does anyone still have a glass collection at home in 2017? Come on...).
To the humble menu of pasta with meatballs, pici with pork ragù, half a kilo of 'nduja, and Andria's burrata that made us inhale enough air to twice block the ventilation system, I added my own touch: plum grappa from my dad, with an alcohol content oscillating from 70 towards infinity. By the third drop-shot, Fra's complexion was changing as if we were at the rides in Fasanolandia. The concern in the room became palpable, enough to seriously consider the idea of even uncorking a bottle of water, until the celebrated himself, after a barrage of reflux coughs, while making a cigarette with the machine (but does anyone in 2017 still not know how to roll their own cigarette? Come on...) reassured us by thundering:
<<Damn... I can't stand virtuosos anymore! The G3, impossible scales... the six-string bass. I loathe even more the fans of this stuff and their technical comments meant to analyze alleged imperfections in execution. That face of James LaBrie, who looks like a cheese vendor, and all those who wear his band’s shirts thinking it says Beethoven on them disgusts me. I find it pathetic those who appreciate this crap and talk about great musicians, real artistic merits, and at the first side project named ''John Petrucci and Joey DI Maio’s Super Epic Poem of Masturbatory Steel'' they rush on SlSk to evaluate the product as if they were a new Morandini with varicocele. I don't care about being sophisticated or cultured; I'm the one who draws dicks with keys in the elevator, the one who sticks boogers onto the office bathroom handle and purposely pees outside in the Kitsch Bar toilet where they're playing House as background music. I have a '95 Peugeot euro 0 with 450,000 km with a F**K OFF BODYSHOPS sticker on the back. When I let a woman go first, it’s not out of etiquette or whatever... it's that I have to check out her ass. And now enough, rascals! Don't linger... give me my gift, come on... and if it's not the '‘Jane Live’' by Converge recorded at the Roadburn last year your damsels will be happy to start counting the coins you'll leave them with your survivor pensions...>>
After an endless silence of about a minute, only broken by a plethora of acidic sewer-tasting farts from Fra, Andrea, innocently: <<And who the hell are these Converge!?!>> (but does anyone in 2017 still...)
CRASHBADABAMSPRAAAAT!!!
Sounds of Murano glass shattering on the red tile of a living room on a cheerful Easter evening of jubilation
Tracklist and Lyrics
02 Homewrecker (00:00)
I have bled and I have given
the longest of rivers and the longest of ropes
And you're not grasping and my light is sinking on the horizon
Knee deep among your wreckage and uncertainty
With anguish my crown and heartbreak my throne
I lay claim to this day - No love, no hope
I've lost count of the second chances
I lay claim to this day - No love, no hope.
03 The Broken Vow (00:00)
Those nights we had and the trust we lost
The sleep that fled me and the heart I lost
It all reminds me just how callous
and heartless the true cowards are
And I write this for the loveless
And for the risks we take
I'll take my love to the grave
As tired and worn it is
I'll take my love to the grave
04 Bitter And Then Some (00:00)
Death to cowards, traitors, and empty words
To those adorned with the touch of rose petals
And the blessed gift of forgetfulness
For these are your years and days to outshine
Push on and soar higher
This is your memory, your everything, and the in-between
Push on and soar higher
05 Jane Doe (00:00)
These floods of you are unforgiving
Pushing passed me spilling through the banks
And I fall
Faster than light and faster than time
That's how memory works
At least in the dark where I'm searching for meaning
When I'm just searching for something
I want out
Out of every ackward day
Out of every tongue tied loss
I want out
Out of the burdening nightsweats
Out of the rising seas of blood
Lost in you like saturday nights
Searching the streets with bedroom eyes
Just dying to be saved
Run on girl, run on
06 Concubine (00:00)
Dear, I'll stay gold just to keep these pasts at bay
To keep the loneliest of the nights from claiming you
and to keep these longest day from waking you
For I felt the greatest of winters coming
and I saw you as seasons shifting from blue to gray
Thats where the coldest of these days await me
and distance lays her heavy head beside me
There Ill stay gold, forever gold
07 Fault And Fracture (00:00)
You were most beautiful as the damage and the trauma
Pounding hard with battered wings of destiny
You were my last great war
You were my heaven ablaze
Riddled with faults and fractures
And I spent my last of days burning my oldest of bridges
And I spent my last of nights killing the best of friends
In the company of thieves, liars, beggers and whores
I'll lay waiting, just waiting for my time to come
08 Distance And Meaning (00:00)
And like that heart that got in the way
I'll become the lost cause
The child of burden and rage
Like the distance in your touch
Like the years we burned down
I heard that phone call
The hesitation, the ackward silence
I felt everything in those seconds
Splinters of sentence and heartless advice
Nothing's changed but these days entwined
09 Heaven In Her Arms (00:00)
Death was just a simple glance across a dim lit room
And those eyes did it
Those three words did it
Those three words killed him
And I surrender to it all
Between you and me, I surrender to you
Forgive me for the sadness
And the bringing of you down
I just needed a lover and I needed a friend
And there you were
Running from forever like all the rest
Three simple words bled me dry
Three simple word bled us dry, bled us dry
I love you
10 Phoenix In Flight (00:00)
And I write this to you my dear
For your eyes alone
I'm out of heart and these tanks are low
So cast your days to flame
And set your phoenix to flight
Let her turn to ash
Among those flourescent lights
Let your love drift deeper
Let her wings catch the sky
Just remember my name, girl
And remember what died
12 Thaw (00:00)
In the want, the need, and this desperation
You'll find me as the time-bomb
As the last great stand in this history
When all our roads have been travelled
And all have come to a most bitter end
Today I thaw
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