•
Rating: As I read the news, I can hardly believe it. They're organizing quite a festival on August 30th in Rho, just 20 minutes from my house: a handful of indie bands to heat up the atmosphere, the Kooks, Kasabian, and none other than their spiritual fathers, Oasis. I rush to buy the ticket, damn it, 46 euros, no alcohol or cigarettes for a couple of weeks, but at least it's worth it, right? I wait for two months, and when on the eve of the fateful day, while I'm comfortably watching sports news in underwear, a segment comes on about the ever-so-charming Gallagher brothers who got into a massive fight, with broken guitars, epic arguments, and they've split up, and no concert tomorrow.
The festival was still overall positive: Kasabian was excellent, starting with songs from their new album (which I highly recommend) and they are among the few who can talk about bloody rock'n roll without having to rinse their mouths ten times. I like them; they showcase their entire recent and past repertoire in a little less than an hour, in a no-frills performance full of substance and genuine music. Then it's the Kooks' turn, with a Luke Pritchard in evidently altered psycho-physical conditions. A bit fawning, a bit too easy and monotonous pop but enjoyable overall. They can boast some good tracks that really work live, thanks also to the unique voice and decent stage presence of the singer, who in the end doesn't hold back flying guitars, pyrotechnic moves, and a free dive into the crowd. The Deep Purple close the concert, the untouchable gods of rock that no one cares about, but they display the majesty of all that they are and can do after forty years of music. It's not every day you can see the performance of a significant part of seventies rock, and despite their no longer flourishing age, they deliver moments of pure art.
It could be an opportunity to encourage festival culture in our country, which lacks such initiatives: it's a shame that the Oasis (musically, I love them) have once again demonstrated an absolute lack of professionalism and respect for the fans, a limitless indifference that goes beyond all decency (Where was Liam? On Lake Como relaxing, poor guy, at Villa d'Este where I work as a lifeguard, if I see him, I'll drown him and his lovely wife). Ruining irreparably an event that involved more than 16,000 people.
Let's hope that britpop, after their breakup, finds heirs worthy of the cause. One thing is certain: the bands at this I-day are a foundation from which to restart for music made in the UK.
Loading comments slowly
