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Rating: "...Ale tonight I am a happy man!!!..."
Don't worry esteemed colleagues, I haven't smoked away the little that's left of my brain; this is the phrase I uttered, smiling, to my friend Alessio as I exited the venue, ecstatic after the concert. Because I want to start from the end, from what happened to me right after the Helmet's performance concluded: Page Hamilton, the leader and founder of the group and the only one remaining from the legendary and unparalleled original formation (sigh), approaches the edge of the stage to greet and shake hands with the not-so-large audience present; the Novara venue lacks any divider barriers, and so, with no security personnel, I take the opportunity to sit on the stage. Page does the same, sitting next to me; I find myself in contact with one of my absolute musical idols and I'm petrified by emotion: I'm speechless. Page puts an arm around my shoulder and Alessio snaps a photo that will remain the indelible mark of an unforgettable evening!!!!
In my more or less understandable English, I tell the band's singer that I saw them twenty-one years ago at the Bloom in Mezzago on a very hot July day; he smiles at me like a good old friend, like someone I've known for years, and he even autographs the ticket I hold trembling in my hand. Those very few seconds spent near him made me understand his simplicity, his lack of pretense in any way, despite being such an influential person in the birth and spread of Hardcore-Noise. Before getting off the stage, he also tells me they'll be back in Italy next year for another tour: it'll be an obligation to attend. And he continued with photos and autographs, practically satisfying the entire audience, mostly composed of people well over forty. After all, gentlemen are born, and Page showed tonight that he is one, and in grand style.
I've been traveling through beloved Italy for almost thirty years to see every type of concert: I'm close to three hundred by now. But I swear I've never experienced such pure and devastating emotion, not even with Steve Wynn seen a few months ago near Milan!!! That's why I left the venue uttering the phrase with which I wanted to start this writing.
I could also stop here with the review; the concert was exceptional, just as I expected knowing well who I was facing.
I'll add that listening again to the album "Betty," celebrated for the twentieth anniversary of its release, from the first to the last note was such a beautiful experience that the entire audience remained still, composed, in a trance, aware of witnessing something unique and certainly unrepeatable. I can say that Kyle on drums and Dave on bass ensured a steel and monolithic sound that devastated hearing and minds; and the second guitarist Dan was no less, also providing a deafening wall of sound.
I could say a few words about the second deadly part of the concert, particularly focused on tracks from the first two albums "Strap It On" and "Meantime." I mention tracks performed like "Bad Mood(n)," "Rude," "Unsung," and a concluding and terrifyingly intense "In The Meantime." And in these tracks, but not only, I took the initiative igniting a quite respectable pogo as in my youthful days: a bit of physical devastation was needed...WOW...
I could go on at length, describing many other details of sure interest; but nothing of this magical evening can EVER surpass that photo, which for a few hours now has been keeping me good company as an avatar on the site. For those who don't know me, I'm the one on the left, ugly, disgustingly sweaty, and with an almost unbearable headache given the concert's volume: details I believe of very little importance at this point. Saying this, I in no way want to lessen a concert that was truly formidable, heaven forbid.
I'm almost done; allow me a few greetings, necessary for me.
Greeting No.1: to my faithful companion in adventure and concerts, and a brotherly friend for decades, Alessio, who inspired me to start writing; so part of the credit or blame goes to him.
Greeting No.2: to Marco, known on the site as Lewis Tollani, who couldn't attend due to insurmountable moving issues, damn you!!! As you reminded and recommended, I kept my elbows high in the final battle under the stage.
Greeting No.3: to Silas Lang...and you know why brother!!! During "Unsung" I closed my eyes and my strength suddenly doubled: you were with me, supporting and elbowing like so many, many years ago in Bologna... A shivery sigh...
Ad Maiora.
P.S. I was so "high" and confused during the encounter with Page that I forgot to show him the Primus t-shirt, which I've worn for twenty years at every concert: now I don't know if he likes them!!! Next time, I promise.
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