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Rating: Attention! This review is absolutely BIASED...
Describing the emotion of a Morrissey concert is a genuine feat. Not so much for the concert itself, but for the fact that Morrissey in Italy is rarer than a pope's death. True, after the recent "pro-Italian" turns, Morrissey simply had to visit us. If he hadn’t come, I swear, I would have gone to Los Angeles to smash that lovely violin he pretends to play on the cover of "Ringleader of the tormentors" over his head. Granted, he tried, canceling more than one date of the Italian tour. We forgive him. Especially I, who bought tickets for Villa Arconati...
Everything and its opposite has been said about Moz, but one thing is certain: the influence of the Smiths in the history of music is inversely proportional to the length of their existence. Although they were a relatively young group (there are more "senior" groups around, like R.E.M., who obviously had longer careers), the Smiths are in the hearts of all who loved and love pop.
This, in my opinion, is thanks to Morrissey. You can say anything about him: that he's unpleasant, that he's a great jerk, and even a sycophant (these much-appreciated praises of Italy, however sincere, seem excessive to me: keep in mind that his musicians showed up at the concert wearing our national team shirts), but there is no doubt about his sincerity and his heart. And he gives his heart to everyone, truly.
Villa Arconati is a truly splendid setting. It's a pity for this castle, a sort of small-scale Palace of Caserta, on the verge of dilapidation. With appropriate (and probably very expensive) restoration, the place would be a true jewel. I saw Sigur Ros here a few years ago, a disappointing concert (Jonsi wasn't in top form) preceded by an exceptional Kimmo Pohjonen, a Finnish accordionist whose work I warmly recommend. This year, the structure's covering (which includes seating, which we all immediately forgot once Moz stepped onstage) was quite tall and, I must say, compromised the acoustics for those seated from the middle to the back of the hall. But it's what it is, the organizers preferred to play it safe in case of rain.
A colossal Oscar Wilde in transparency was placed above the stage, bathed in Chopin's notes. To open the evening, an extraordinary voice-keyboard/drums duo. The girl (I apologize, but I don't remember her name) is a sort of angrier and goth Tori Amos, but with a very respectable voice. A bit repetitive over the long haul, but that's the effect of every opening act, especially if someone like Morrissey comes afterward.
Morrissey arrives half an hour late, then kicks off with a “Panic” that stuns us all immediately. That's not fair, Moz, we weren't at all prepared; you hadn't even set foot onstage before you started joking around. But we love you. We do... Moz has a unchanged voice: while most musicians see a drop in octave range after forty (an example for all: David Bowie), Morrissey sings exactly like he did twenty years ago. He prances around the stage, sweating through several shirts, many of which he throws to the delight of the audience.
He has so much class he could stay silent and still for three hours, and we would still feel his presence. Only, Morrissey doesn't stay silent. He sings. A debate erupted at the end of the concert: "he did a few songs by the Smiths", "well, he can't do all Smiths songs", "yes, but if he doesn't do them, who should?"
Later on, somewhat surprisingly, a "Girlfriend in a Coma" and especially a "Still Ill" of unexpected power broke out. The crowd (it must be said, overwhelmingly composed of over-thirties) enjoys, hops, dances, sings.
"Thank you for downloading Ringleader of the tormentors", he says at some point. "I bought it!", a girl shouts. "What? You're forty?", he asks. This is Morrissey. The concert primarily comprised tracks from the latest, hugely successful albums. He opened a parenthesis with a couple of older tracks and a cover (I'll thank whoever can tell me whose song it is). The emotional high point was "Life is a pigsty", visibly moving us all. In any case, his musicians are entirely up to the task.
I would have liked "There is a light that never goes out" and "Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me", but the concert’s closure with "How soon is now?" partly compensated for this absence. I saw many visibly vintage Smiths shirts on this splendid fresh evening at Villa Arconati. Many people evidently had been waiting a long time to see Moz live.
It was an exhilarating evening, Moz is a splendid gentleman whose class many can only dream of. If you've bought a house at the Colosseum, dear Steven Patrick, come to us, stay here, and perform more often.
Our heart is open to you.
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