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Rating: The concert by Luci della Centrale Elettrica was moving. A sweet punch in the gut.
Songs of love and crap from the provinces. Songs for the marred beaches. Songs made of disconnected phrases. Songs with phrases put randomly, many say. Vasco Brondi has a blog. I have a blog. I understand his lyrics, I read them, and it feels as if I wrote them myself. Phrases, thoughts, and feelings that only a twenty-year-old today would say. Like me and like the good Vasco. Like all the other people who were in the courtyard of Villa Mazzacorati in Bologna yesterday, sitting around the stage in reverent silence, only to shout amidst the distortions with Vasco "what will we tell the children we won't have about these damn zero years" and that "the CCCP have been gone for quite a while".
The same old anxieties. The same broken hearts and the same tough lives that friends sing among themselves on the beach for forty years, with an acoustic guitar and some beers. But today the beaches are marred. And there are more and more beers. And Vasco yesterday had more rum brought up on stage, because he was not foresighted enough, and the concert lasted longer than he thought.
Twenty years of anxieties, twenty years as a twenty-first-century blogger, told, sung, and shouted in an hour-long concert by an emerging punk singer-songwriter, with his name written on masking tape on his guitar.
And I think we will go see Le Luci Della Centrale Elettrica again. From the Turbo Gas plant...
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