Henry Rollins
The Long March @ Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, 25.01.2012

Henry Rollins (does not) need any special introductions. A frontman like none ever before (and probably like none will ever be again), poet, writer, documentarian (he recently collaborated with National Geographic), publisher and above all, a curious and tireless traveler, the man recently passed through my area for one of his usual tours that keep him busy at least 180 days a year. The fact that the local university granted him the auditorium for his performance already speaks volumes about the respect the man commands. Can you imagine something similar in Italy?

During the more than two and a half hours of the show, it becomes clear why Henry Rollins has become an institution: his ability to dissect topics both from a social and personal perspective, the clarity of his vocabulary (no trivial matter, think for example of rendering jokes in English to a non-anglophone audience), his skill in maintaining the constant attention of the audience, and above all a torrential need to communicate, which is a bit the common thread that connects the animalistic performer of thirty years ago with the amiable fifty-something (dressed in black from head to toe) who, having tamed his demons, wisely abandoned singing before becoming a caricature of himself.

Henry Rollins is now able to smile at past adversities and, above all, to provoke thought: from the 5 years spent on tour in a smelly van with the Black Flag, to the more grotesque aspects of American consumerism, to surreal trips in countries considered "axis of evil" by American politics (in Syria experiencing the extreme courtesy of the local population; in North Korea discovering that Kim Jong-il allegedly invented agriculture and discovered the solar system), passing through the poverty of post-earthquake Haiti or recounting the - terrible - letters received from veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan. Rollins' ability to connect such diverse issues has made the experience of this particular event unique: the charisma of this man is still intact, although it has a different intensity (perhaps because it's no longer mediated by the presence of a rock band on stage). At the end of this pleasant evening, questioning what one went to see (a seminar? a spoken word?) doesn't really matter much. For the writer, being there was what mattered.