Eugenio Bennato
Taranta Power

Invited by one of his musicians, an old acquaintance of mine, I approach the ever enchanting Positano on a splendid midsummer evening to watch from behind the scenes a concert by one Eugenio BENNATO, about whom I have to admit, I know little to nothing. But since I live off live music and don’t waste any opportunity, I think: everything’s GRAVY.

Even though I try to push it away as much as I can, an irrepressible less-than-noble feeling of skepticism assails me: I don’t like anything about what I am about to observe. Behind a sober and essential stage looms the symbol "Taranta Power", which to me feels very much like a village festival of a municipality with few funds to invest, like "Girl power" of our own, of boring and old things, which attract me like a spade to the gums.

During the soundcheck, the bored mixer, between yawns and cigarettes, tells me about the alternative folk music project that the minstrel with the surname that people (myself included) inevitably associate with the island that does not exist, has been carrying out with obstinacy for decades. Bah. I remain skeptical and just drop my jaw in awe at the virtuosity of a group of musicians that makes my arm hairs stand on end (it's called envy). Four minutes before the start, Eugenio arrives, grumpy and seemingly arrogantly aloof, shaking my hand without even looking me in the eye.

How nice it is to be wrong. What a satisfaction to come to define oneself an idiot when, halfway through the concert, I find myself hopping and dancing as I've never done in my life among a jubilant crowd composed also of very young people (and a multitude of beautiful girls). The show is unbelievably engaging, paced by "rural percussion", electronic contaminations, tribal choirs, and even surprisingly very folk (and also damn sexy) dances by the backing singers. The repertoire is a bit repetitive, but enhanced by very sophisticated melodies, a meticulous search for the "right" sound, and some rare "covers" of better-known songs (like "tammurriata nera", for example).

The sound of the Taranta, despite my short-sighted skepticism, seeps into my bones making them vibrate. I would have never guessed. At the end of the concert, I return backstage and shake hands with everyone, and the half-smile that Eugenio offers to my compliments seems a bit less superficial to me.

I do not recommend purchasing the CD, because it is too homemade and absolutely does not do justice to the artistic quality offered by the show that I have tried to describe. I would only highlight an intense and heart-wrenching vocal performance by the renowned Pietra Montecorvino in "Fimmina Chiangi" and something listenable in "Riturnella". Otherwise, the sounds are gloomy, the voices too reverberated, and nothing of the contagious energy of that Taranta Power that truly enchanted me, even if only for one summer evening, comes through.

It's no wonder the lesser-known Bennato’s CDs are not even sold in major retail stores, which is indeed quite rare. Folk music, in fact, the "REAL" kind, is only the one played on stage and lived by the audience, and the lesser-known Bennato, who doesn’t pander to commercial appeal, knows it well.

Go see it, if you get the chance, and even if you come from very different musical paths (like me), you can’t help but be fascinated, in a sense "consoled" by the show, the sounds, the atmospheres. It’s a bit like when, after a week of lunch breaks marked by meal vouchers worth 7.50 € (gross), you sip grandma’s BROTH at Sunday lunch.