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Rating: (Brief but necessary intro. If you were wondering, the one in the photo is indeed Mr. Scott Kelly. And the other one is me. There you go!)
While we were traveling to Turin, Mauro_Bartolo, Dario_Inferno, and I started talking about DeBaser, the users and the reviews, the history and the graphics.
We came to two common conclusions:
1) The graphics used to be shit, now they're just crappy
2) We can't stand any of you
3) No, you can't remedy this in any way
But weren’t the conclusions supposed to be two? Whatever, things happen in threes!
In the meantime, we were talking about the styles of various reviewers, and I confessed mine: I write reviews spontaneously, the sentences you find in them are exactly how I think them, I'm not the type to erase and rewrite a sentence a thousand times.
I mention this because I'm making an exception for this report. In fact, two or three sentences have already been rewritten and deleted.
I could have said this without the shocking revelations, but where's the fun in that?
(pause)
We arrive in Turin past 8 o'clock, which reminds me "damn! the tobacco shops will already be closed!".
In Via Francesco Cigna 1, or thereabouts, we park and find two idiots I don't remember who they were, I think something like Blacktrommel and Hardcore90-2, who knows. One was Peruvian and the other Albanian.
We get back in the car to do a loop in order to get as close as possible to the venue. And among the thrilling stories of Blacktrommel's work, and his half-wrong directions, passing by the only butt seen that day ([un]fortunately female), we manage to park on a nearby street.
"Isn't it a bit far?"
"Just be glad there’s a spot!"
Then we head off, except we stop at the sandwich vendor. Everyone orders, except me.
"Do you have 30 cents to lend me?"
"Wait, let me check..."
...
"Okay, here you go"
"Great, so I can get rid of these coins when we go in."
"Did you happen to order a vegetarian sandwich?"
"Um... No?"
"Vegetarian sandwich! Did anyone order a vegetarian sandwich?"
"Vegetarian sandwich? I thought in a place like this people only ate raw human meat."
"That would be a cannibal sandwich though!"
"Yeah? Well, it wouldn't be that bad after all..."
And off we go. But outside the gates...
"Hold on a second. I remember you can't bring glass bottles inside"
(we had three beers among us)
"...Shit"
"If you guys want to go in, I’ll help finish them"
Meanwhile, we try to reason with the security gorillas.
"Oh no, you can’t" while pointing at me "make him drink it so you’re quick"
"I, in that case, will not resist"
"...In the end I didn't pay a damn thing and drank more than everyone else"
"Okay, let's go in"
I buy the ticket and admire it. Meanwhile, I notice it says "Issued: 20/07/2011 17.05". Five past five? Wow! I thought it was past nine, and instead!
(pause)
At a concert, what do you do just inside, if the band hasn't started yet?
a) You check out girls' butts
b) You look at the merch tables
c) You grab a drink
d) You kill time talking
The correct answer is: All of them!
I started with B, then A and D simultaneously, and finally C.
What can I say? The merch was awesome, from hoodies with satanic snakes to shirts with the devil’s horses. I buy something in between: a shirt with the devil’s snakes.
Meanwhile, Ufomammut are playing, but I admit I kept thinking "who cares? I'm only here for Neurosis!" so I can't say much about them.
"I have to tell you that even though Neurosis is my favorite band, I can never remember the names of all the members!"
"Don't tell me oh!"
"No, but there's, I remember Scott and Steve obviously, then Noah, then Josh, and the others? Who knows what they do?"
"It’s a bit like the seven dwarfs, there’s always one you forget"
"Usually it's Sneezy and Bashful"
...
"No, but you've made me doubt, what are the seven dwarfs? There's Doc, Sleepy, Sneezy, Bashful, Dopey, Grumpy..."
"...Damn it!"
"I can't believe it! If you say the ones you always forget first, then you forget the most obvious!"
But it’s too late to continue the stimulating conversation.
Around 10:30 a shady figure with a big hoodie comes on stage to tune the guitar. Guitar?
"Who is it?"
"It looks like Scott Kelly to me, but that guitar from afar looks like a bass, how many strings does it have?"
"Who knows?"
"Well no, it’s a guitar, it's Scott!"
Then he leaves, probably to take off the hoodie.
"Let’s find a spot with a decent view and good sound"
"Let’s go"
"A bit further... Turn right, in 400 meters pass the roundabout, second exit, keep left"
"This is perfect!"
Meanwhile, Our Heroes come on stage. And I'm trembling, damn!
Scott has grown a belly that's on par with mine. Steve shaved his goatee, my world crumbled. But what's with those neon hair on the bassist? Okay, he’s always been a bit showy but...
And silence falls.
.
.
.
Dum, dum-dam-dum.
...
"RRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEE!"
LOCUST STAR!
"I request an audience with the mighty lord of swine."
"Permission granted."
"Hey hi, yeah, um... I wouldn’t know whether to curse you or praise you for all this."
The sound of Neurosis doesn’t just hit you: it envelops you.
What hits you are the voices, causing almost physical pain: suffering, visceral, evoking emotions. The worst emotions you could ever experience.
A Neurosis concert isn't a concert: it's a journey, at the end of which you're not exhausted, you're destroyed. Physically and psychologically.
The end of the journey is an execution: you beg for mercy. Mercy that will be denied.
The Neurosis are as human yet as inhuman as it gets: they take, they steal a part of you, never to return it. And you have never wanted anything else.
In two simple words: it hurts.
Nothing has ever hurt me more than the finale of "A Season In The Sky."
Nothing has devastated me more than the finale "Through Silver In Blood."
"Don't crawl, seek his burn of war. When the fallout comes he is fire."
A finale that's an apocalypse. An apocalypse that's a catharsis. A catharsis that leaves only emptiness behind.
"Ten words: what the hell do you say after a concert like that?"
"...Who cares!"
"Boom!"
At that point, I have to find Scott. I have to find Scott.
And I find him surrounded by people talking to him and greeting him.
And then it's my turn.
And I shake his hand.
"I have no words. Just... Thank you."
I light a cigarette, ready for the return journey.
Aware that what they took from me will never come back.
But after all... I've never wanted anything else.
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