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Rating: In the end, I did it. Waking up by bike, half a day cleaning the house, and so goodbye mountain trip with camera on a celestial Sunday of long weekend wonder affinity various camping types.
So it's five, and it's time to take stock of the situation.
Thursday, August 4th, was the fourth day of employment in the Roman expedition for service communications, and I had nothing to do because it was my free afternoon. In search of a guide, I called Daniè. Daniè show me the baroque. Please. Can you survive without knowing a fraschetta? Give me a picture of pizzartajio. Tell me about this bunker. What do they want to do with the bunker, tell me Daniè.
What a beauty free time is. At the Palazzo delle Esposizioni, there's a Gardin exhibition. All right, Daniè. At least I see Venice in beautiful photos, given that, this year too, the mountain trip with camera on a celestial Sunday of long weekend wonder affinity various camping types was skipped.
Listen alè.
Tell me, Daniè.
Tonight there are the Zu at Villa Ada.
What the hell are you saying, Daniè.
The Zu and then it seems like the Lightning Bolts open.
What the hell are you saying, Daniè.
Well-known that the whole preamble interests and entertains me more than anyone else, this is roughly how I found out about the date in question. It may seem insignificant, but I assure you that never in my life has it happened that so little time passed between the moment I found out about the date of two bands that I wanted to see live all my life, and the moment the concert would start. About four hours, I mean.
I get excited easily.
The ATM being a bit slow steals five minutes of live, but without the ATM, we wouldn't have gotten in, so out of professional deformation, the ATM took its interest. I arrive in front of the Zu. Because I say the Zu. I'd never say the Zu. Which is very likely correct. But it's also correct to say the elephants. So I say the Zu. The first thing I think, apart from the elephants (which I swear never leave my mind), is damn how I'd love to hear them in a club. Villa Ada is a nice place; the live was also quite successful (I don't know if it's luck or if it is indeed a valid place) from every point of view, but the idea of enjoying them indoors, much closer to the dimension of destruction, intimacy, and circumscribed vibration tempted me quite a bit. Patience, it's my chance, and only after I realize that if the elephants are playing, the Lightning Bolt are not opening as I thought.
What would I have preferred? That night who cares, I just need to drink and look more and more like an elephant, more and more like an elephant. An elephant an elephant. The strongest, the strongest, the strongest.
The show overall is short, but its impact brings about a state of trance, dissociation, making it hypnotic enough to compare to a drug. The elegance in the figure and sound of the Sax which is violated during a sandstorm is priceless. The Zu for me are like Sigur Ros: I never remember a damn song title. They finish with a nuclear bomb that could be Chthonian, as it might not be. I'll find out only by hearing them another sixty times. Priceless is the fake tongue of the duo's drummer from the United States which goes up and down in the compulsive 250bpmogiùdilì they're used to playing. The omnipresent delay in his headset microphone, which repeats what seem to be bare-knuckle fight verses, mixes with a bass that is actually a string stoner synth, and in the meantime, he breaks one frenzied drumstick after another.
They send me home without the song through which I became acquainted with them, that romantic video that reminds me so much of the first kiss: https://youtu.be/1MhRj_48-7w
I was at a concert, in the seventies in England, I was in Manhattan in the smoke of jazz players, among the dunes and little water, I was at a rave and in Japan, I rode a motorcycle without the front wheel, I was in a ring and was about to drown, I watched the elephants move the entire time, I was at the Lightning Bolt and Zu concert. Thank you, Daniè.
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