Einstürzende Neubauten
Live at Villaggio Globale, 05.03.04

LA RECENSIONE

The only two things I remember for sure about the evening of March 5, 2004, are: the first is that the Einsturzende Neubauten concert in Rome was scheduled, and I had the ticket and - apparently - I also went; the second is that - alas - that day I had anticipated a lot of socializing over some good wine, and by the time I reached the German ear-splitters, I was as smashed as an English hooligan at a Manchester match.

Anxious like an Inter supporter before the derby and restless like an Inter supporter at the end of the derby, I spent the whole day getting as familiar as possible with the album "Perpetuum mobile," and thank goodness I had the good idea, because at least I can confidently tell you that my (suffering and tormented) ears heard most of the songs from that album at the "Villaggio Globale" (oh, poor Milanese lads, I heard that the concert at the Lombardy date required a 27-euro outlay; well, for once Milan thief and Rome glutton, take that). If the colossal hangover hasn't scrambled my memories, here is my humble account, to be read like the warm souvenir of a fan certainly not from the first hour, far from it, but always fascinated by the Berlin offer, perhaps slightly a bit excessive for my refined and prissy ears.

The beginning. Violent and aggressive, the guys barely had time to pick up their (pseudo) instruments when a sudden barrage of clangs and clatter arrived, to the extent that, in my blissful stupor, I even thought I had gotten off at the wrong metro stop and had landed at Termini, and a terrorist had just launched the Roma-Aprilia train at 200 km/h against thousands of skirted Scots returning from the Italy-Scotland rugby match.

The famous bass line of "Sabrina" however brought me back to reality, what a wonderful song, what a lousy man I am, I don't even know which album it belongs to. When between one hysterical laugh and another the wine was bubbling up and clouding my mind, Blixa Bargeld woke me up: at one point, when leaving the concert, I even thought that this man had screamed nonstop for the entire duration of the concert (and maybe it's true). I certainly noticed the particular sophistication of the live-woven plots: the tracks from "Perpetuum mobile" stretched, unraveled, until they took the shape of lengthy improvised digressions, always maintaining an overall atmosphere of notable impact: at one point when leaving the concert, I also thought of visiting the otolaryngologist, because Enzo was talking to me and I couldn't hear him (usually, when Enzo talks, I just don't understand).
I also saw a compressor, and many other contraptions of instruments and everything was so chaotic and crazy, and I love chaotic things.

Oh, I don't know what else to tell you, guys, I don't even remember how long it lasted, and I wish I did, because then I could tell those who ask me about the concert exactly how happy I felt that night.
The wine never betrays, and I will never tire of deepening mutual knowledge.
Neither do the Einsturzende Neubauten betray me, and I promise to deepen my knowledge of them as soon as possible. I absolutely owe it to them. One of the bands you absolutely must see at least once in your life. But if they come back, make it twice.

P.S.: For a moment, when leaving the concert, I also thought of purchasing the recording of the concert itself, on sale at record time in a nook of the venue; but in a flash of shameful and unstoppable urge towards alcoholism, I let myself be dragged by Enzo to the nearest winery. Don't worry: I'm killing myself on my own.