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Rating:
One thousand two hundred kilometers are enough to go see a concert recommended by everyone.
Neurosis live do not betray expectations but confirm the attitude of austerity that one intuits by listening to their records. Starting from the soundcheck done by themselves while the audience gathers under the stage without recognizing them, or perhaps respecting their aura of severe professionalism and anti-celebrity.
Behind the six members of the band stands a large circular screen, with two smaller twins on the sides, and immediately the memory goes to the Tool concert seen in 2001.
The musicians retreat from the scene and a low, sepulchral note induces the audience to be silent; gradually, the absence of noise becomes so tangible that the slightest movement seems to create immense discomfort for everyone.
Then the drums begin to mark the time of "Burn" and the audience explodes; on the screens, there are images of ice and distant inhospitable shores, perhaps of Antarctica or maybe another world.
Next to Steve Von Till, who wields the guitar as if it were a totem to be proud of, Scott Kelly assaults a huge drum, intensifying the rhythmic dose of the song. The whole thing seems like an ancient ritual, with these six serious men, half-hidden by shadows, singing martial and frightening chants, invocations, and curses upwards.
Some of the audience leave the hall to listen to the more reassuring Megadeth on the main stage, many cover their ears and exchange worried glances with their neighbors, others just stand open-mouthed staring at the screens, as if hypnotized.
"Staring at the doorway" shouts Scott Kelly, and on the screens appears the face of a woman flooded with water that rises and then drowns, rises and goes down again as if sinking into an abyss; everyone begins to move to the rhythm of the percussion, now also played by Steve Von Till, it feels like being in Poe's story about the descent into the Maelstrom.
A guy starts distributing earplugs, and the "mass" continues until I forget about the fatigue and the kilometers; dragged by the consoling mantra of "A sun that never sets", I too begin to move with the audience, and the heat is almost no longer felt. Then something cracks in the introspective tranquility of the piece to plunge into the boiling cauldron of "Under the Surface"; Von Till and Scott Kelly return with feral rage to massacre the drums in a terrifying crescendo, it is here that the sense of tribalism that Neurosis emanate becomes very strong.
the whole thing rises until it explodes, and it's the turn of "I can see you", which with its desperate cry for help closes an incredible set, enriched by marvelous and terrifying videos that perfectly matched the flow of the music.
This is how Neurosis are, and after listening to them attentively, one can no longer do without the biblical power of their cries.
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