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Rating:
"I saw the end of rock'n'roll the other night at the Piper, crumbled among the synths, murdered by computers, skinned by Faust'o and the others.
If there was ever rock'n'roll in Italy, it lived until yesterday, today it no longer exists"
So began a review back in June 1983 in the legendary Ciao 2001.
But those were different times, Fausto covered his face with white makeup and hid among a thousand keyboards as if he were part of the Sparks, now, that is a year ago, the concert is more minimal without reaching the extremes of '95 when he performed on stage only with his electric guitar or accompanied by his trusty guitarist Pierluigi Ferrari, now on the stage of the Morya Alter Bar there's a real band:
Andrea Viti, already bassist with Afterhours and Karma,
Alessio Russo on drums
Franci Omi, (the great Omi) on keyboards,
and the usual Ferrari on electric guitar.
The introduction is dry ""I present some songs from the new work plus tracks from the past, but not too distant".
It's important to remember that it's been 8 years since anything new has been released and many of the fans packed into the cramped basement where the concert is held are here attracted more by the name Faust'o than Fausto Rossi.
Anyway, that's how it is, I settle on the ground with my legs crossed observing the participants, we would be about a hundred, even too many for the space we're given.
Two tri, four the drum sets the rhythm and a sequence of strictly English rock songs begins that were supposed to be part of a work that was never released and I strongly doubt it ever will be.
The sound is strongly rock and without frills, with very little room for stylistic technicalities to the detriment of the voice, which climbs to unexpected lyrics, now warm and powerful, now light as if it were a feather on our heart; never a slip or a false note, the rhythm always supporting our voice while Omi on the keyboard is never invasive, as is the guitar, always present but never truly the protagonist.
The show slides by quickly and interestingly, the new tracks are listened to in reverent silence almost as if wanting to understand where this time Mr. Rossi wants to lead us, taking us by the hand and shaking our conscience.
The most famous songs like Exit or Perché Il Mio Amore are softly sung by the audience but without ever covering our idol's voice, then Fausto snaps and says to Pierluigi Ferrari "how dare you?" It seems something happened between him and the bassist for a fraction of a second the concert seems it might end like this but then, fortunately, everything resumes even though the glances between the musicians appear stunned, Fausto is visibly upset you can tell by how he sings and how he handles the guitar, and here is the less happy part of the concert a philippic against Vasco Rossi and his senseless success trying to play on the title of the Zocca singer's last hit but above all the urge to turn us all into bombers if they had built the infamous TAV in Val Susa.
Then he takes a sheet of paper, crosses his legs, sits on the ground, assumes the lotus position and while the bass begins the notorious blues riff he makes the song, reads it, doesn't change a comma, drags it beyond the usual long 14 minutes, leaves us stunned and dazed in the audience, the very young girl next to me nods her head in rhythm.
There are men who. . . .
It is like telling the truth about oneself without feeling lost."
He gets up, says goodbye and leaves. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
We remain a bit stunned someone asks for an encore he returns "well if you really want" and repeats the first piece of the evening in a stripped-down version, extinguishes the joint smiles and leaves, the album was supposed to come out, there were supposed to be three one in Italian and two in English. . . . . . . . .
I dedicate this review to ESTER
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