[What follows is a first impressions report written by two authors. It's as carefully crafted as the festival day that it describes appeared to us.]
It's our first festival. It's attached to the Festa de l'Unità, which today seems to be simply called Festa Unità, in a very beautiful setting: sun, heat. Families mix with spiked punk kids. Two stands immediately catch G's attention: 89, Porcino Malefico restaurant, and 98, Giant Fishing.
As soon as we enter the area dedicated to the event, already quite cooked by a fierce sun under which we stood in line to collect the famous passes (while the regular ticket lines were desolately empty), we realize what a festival is: a place where people stand under a stage, in the sun, watching the stage... empty.
At the same time, we question the meaning of the term "independent." But we find ourselves unprepared. Our thoughts are interrupted by a young lady who takes the stage dressed in Versace or perhaps, as an Englishman would say, "vessaci".
She starts playing and we move closer to hear... oops, to see better.
(MELISSA) AUF DER MAUR
We notice with annoyance that while the young lady is playing, we can talk (and — incredibly — understand each other) normally: the volume is very low. But the annoyance is soon tempered: we understand that the decibels are deliberately reduced so as not to disturb the adjacent communist festival, so we gladly bow to the needs of the Revolution.
We wonder what the guitarist in red is for: there is already a guitarist, and the keyboardist often abandons his instrument in favor of a Gibson. Perhaps she is only there as a backing vocalist, but since you can't even hear the main voice... boh. Moreover, we remain in doubt: Melissa is inaudible only due to a mixing defect, or does she not have a voice at all? We lean towards the second hypothesis, but she is really cute, so we forgive her everything.
Even the fact that she has rather wooden movements, even the fact that she keeps complaining about the heat - as if to justify a not-so-exciting performance.
LARS FREDERIKSEN AND THE BASTARDS
The first two pieces are enough to fully convince us of the skill of this group, which also greatly stimulates our intellectual curiosity: we therefore decide, before the third piece starts, to go to the book tent of the Festa Unità and spend hundreds of euros on books.
Upon returning, we realize that perhaps we should get some drugs, but it seems impossible (especially since we think of doing so while sitting on the little hill, waiting). G is dispirited to realize he always seems like a secret police officer.
dkt MC5
In the meantime, these strange figures who we know absolutely nothing about have conquered the stage. Their music is a mix of blues and rock'n'roll (or rhythm'n'blues? who knows) that doesn't really leave much of a mark. They also have the audience doing some singing...
VELVET REVOLVER
Rock & fuckin' roll: two girls seated on revolvers with their "trigger" aligned with that of the weapon make the backdrop for these well-trained professionals.
The frontman is dressed like an 80s gay (leather and military cap).
They should be the highlight of this evening, but to us, they seem a lot like today's Guns and Roses. We go to eat.
THE DARKNESS
The other highlight of the evening: to express the most accurate judgment possible, we make our way through the crowd and almost reach the front barriers. They arrive. Laughter.
The frontman is unfortunate at rare levels, the bassist is a caricature: he looks like he came out of "Hair." They present themselves with an embarrassing instrumental intro. Then the first piece starts, sung in falsetto by this ridiculous human being wearing a black jumpsuit open down to the groin.
G yells at him: "IMMATURE!": laughter from the bystanders, one of whom even shakes his hand.
We can't take it anymore, we dig our way to the exit and go to the Festa Unità. The Revolution. Forget rock'n'roll.
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