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Rating: It's fair to say that Gianna Nannini is today the best Italian rock performer, commercial or not her songs may be, due to her voice and an irresistible stage presence.
It was even more evident, on August 23rd, that my friends and I would go the next day to attend the concert of the Tuscan rocker, ensuring to leave well in advance to enjoy that blessed concert. Instead, the appointment is punctually ditched by the lazy group to which I am honored to belong, preferring to the show a twilight laziness and the most banal chatter. After a few moments of dismay, I resolve to leave on my own but, to show that melomania doesn't pay, my father denies me the car and before, moved by compassion, he grants it, a good hour passes so I set off only by nine (Palinuro is 40 minutes away by car).
Arriving in Palinuro a little after ten, to find a spot to park I push inward for about two kilometers, moving away from the concert site (the port) by about 3.5 kilometers. The crowd was massive and even more crowded considering the small size of Palinuro. In short, at a brisk pace, I head towards the port with the concert already started, and along the way, the notes of various songs like Fotoromanza, Sei nell'anima, Io, Bomboloni and indistinct vocalizations of the Gianna Nazionale come along with gusts of wind.
When after about forty minutes the road becomes more scenic and the music closer, I begin to glimpse the stage but inexplicably see a flow of people returning, muttering something like "the concert's over", "no use going on", "better hurry to get the car". Silencing these voices are the initial notes of that song that goes "maybe it won't be a song that changes the rules of the game..." and whoever like me screamed it until losing their voice that July 9th, more than an anthem, more than the seven nation army, driving against traffic on a seaside path, cannot help but shiver and put wings on their feet to run and see that song, while everyone around stops.
I finally arrive at a providential lookout over the port and sitting on an iron railing I enjoy the last priceless scraps of the concert: Meravigliosa Creatura, I Maschi, Bello e Impossibile and Amandoti.
Bye bye summer.
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