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Rating: [The following review is a hybrid, the result of a fun exercise carried out by Bloo and Pglx, assembled randomly via email. Every error, inaccuracy, and nonsense contained herein is statistically normal, given the premises - and the personalities of the reviewers. Peace to all of you. ]
It's late in the evening, and at the Eyes Club, a disco-labyrinth hidden behind a hotel-church, Frangipane, Bloomer, and Pugliamix have arranged to meet up.
The entrance is kind of mysterious, a hidden alley, a light bulb in front of a door. It looks like the back exit through which, in movies, you get thrown out into the street after being beaten up, and after you, drunk, smashed a bottle over the head of the club owner and neighborhood boss. Frangipane and Pugliamix are the first to arrive, to take advantage of the happy hour. Easy is recognized and approached by Puglia and lets them know that the set will contain a few new songs, as the band opted for a more singles-oriented setlist. Easy comes and goes, spending a lot of time talking about Debaser, Lugano, the band and the time flies by so quickly that it is the keyboardist himself who comes to call him to play ("if you would like to do us the honor of getting on stage...
") past midnight.
Bloo arrives at the fourth song, dressed as a little guy in a suit and tie, seeming like a re-edition of '80s Bowie... handsome as the sun. As soon as he climbs the stairs, he is immediately spotted by the menacing eyes of ten or twelve post-dark teens: they immediately realize this is the clumsy private investigator the grown-ups must have put on their trail to find out if they do drugs or have group sex.
Bloomer looks at them squinting his eyes, but it is more myopia than investigative acumen. In fact, he is looking for the aforementioned friends and scrutinizes the sofa areas with a suspicious air. He thinks he recognizes in the lip movement of a girl full of eyeliner and striped socks a unique comment. Finally, Pugliamix shows up, with all the shoulder pats and an engagé
attitude. Frangipane already has beer-glazed eyes and '80s nostalgia, staggering noticeably, and you expect him to burst into a cry and laugh crisis at any moment.
The Eyes is unusually full for a concert, and it's a joy to see the attendees: apart from Pugliamix, Frangipane, and the bartenders, they are ALL dressed in black!
So the three settle down to drink beer (the first for Bloo) on three uncomfortable stool-chairs, more suited to some tall exhibitionists not far away, who indeed take advantage of the stance to unfold their long legs. Happy hour!
says Pugliamix. And Frangipane nods, Bloomer too.
THE FIGUREHEAD. So, this group "Easycure" only covers songs by "The Cure". They are a cover band of The Cure. There.
STRANGE ATTRACTION - They are good. But we expected that. What we didn't anticipate and find in front of us is a shameless mastery of the stage, a defiant calligraphic skill, and a bold confidence with the audience.
THE HANGING GARDEN - The audience mostly adores them, deluding themselves that they are the reincarnation of Smith & Co., or rather the result of a cryopreservation project dated 1989.
KYOTO SONG - The drummer is there hitting like the beams of God's light on Sinai. His name is Easycure, as you've probably guessed. Pounding the drums while bulging his eyes.
THE END OF THE WORLD - Contrary to just singles, the start of the concert was intense, with three of the best pieces of Pornography, certainly not the easiest, particularly the endless "Figurehead," perfectly executed. It is clear from the start that the band offers an excellent show, very close to the original.
A NIGHT LIKE THIS - Nice version (and who cares if there’s no saxophone - says Puglia).
EXPLODING - The bassist, while playing, thinks: "I am Simon Gallup
." And it’s true. The audience looks at him and says: "Hey, that's really him!
." He bends his knees and imagines mowing the lawn with the bass neck. Or he imagines being Mr. Death decapitating the audience.
IN BETWEEN DAYS - Puglia, the Cure expert of the group, explains the songs' meanings to the others, the genesis of the tracks, highlighting significant parts with eloquent glances, but it all flies a bit under the radar because it's dark and the sound is lively deafening.
JUST LIKE HEAVEN - Even good Bloomer knows this one by heart, which is another way to say: even the stones know it.
A LETTER TO ELISE - The guitarist boasts an enviable set of guitars and technique. Every song has its own. In particular, with what appears to be a Gibson ES335 with Bigsby tremolo, he struts swaying here and there.
PRIMARY - And the keyboardist, with a crystalline touch, makes a pretty good impression hidden behind the cases. It's a dirty job, baby... The drummer is into it as always. Frangi is so drunk that you just want to hug him... there she is!
LULLABY - We are all moved, touched in the soul. A tear escapes, but we pretend it's not there because... damn, we're not kids anymore!
CLOSE TO ME - Still can’t hear a thing of Pugliamix’s scholarly commentary. Frangi and Bloo nod out of mere courtesy now, trying not to give him too much leash and at the same time not to disappoint him.
PLAY FOR TODAY - Excellent audience response: we all start singing the initial keyboard line, like in Imola in June.
During the break, Easy meets Bloomer, they talk in fake Tuscan, saying "O pisc'helli! You play really well, we really like your music that y’all make, and yes, we will also have a little beer on it, come on! "
A FOREST - The singer is very evocative. Before the concert, he dipped his head in a bucket of powder, then brushed his hair up and down (but not necessarily in this order).
BLOODFLOWERS - Beyond the acoustics of the Eyes (which is what it is), the equalization of the volumes, which leaves the second guitar and keyboards a bit in the background, the overall sound is very reminiscent of The Cure from the Pornography era.
10:15 SATURDAY NIGHT - Grand finale.
Then the DJ Set starts, strictly Dark and New Wave. Easy stays a bit with us (beer), then we lose him, we see each other again after a while (beer), and finally, we say goodbye (beer): the Easycure must take possession of their executive suite at Hotel Resi in Busa di Vigonza (PD), which they will surely destroy by morning, during the nocturnal orgy with the groupies that the drummer picked up at the end of the evening.
The three of us are left to drink and roll around to the rhythm of what's left of the '80s... There they are, Frangipane, Bloomer, and Pugliamix: those are not their real names. They are not even real people. They are just three black figures with red eyes, three imaginary boys.
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