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Rating: When you hit the milestone of 40 years, you start looking back and try to fill in the gaps before it's too late. Yes damn it, I'm 40, once I saw it as a distant number, something that would come sooner or later, but I thought more later than sooner.. And yet, like a breath of wind, I found myself blowing out all those fucking, damn candles and realized I had never attended a Pearl Jam concert.
New album, tour with two dates in Italy.. Milan and Trieste.. San Siro.. Christ the Pearl Jam at San Siro. I absolutely have to go, this is one of the things I must absolutely do before I die, before it's too late. Ticketone, I wait like a jaguar lurking in the tall grass, without making a sound, ready to click as soon as the sales opened. I wait patiently, calmly, without getting nervous, my hand steady like that of a Russian sniper at -30° perched on the roof of a building. When the pre-sale opened, I darted like Usain Bolt in the Olympic final of 100 meters.. Field. It's mine now. Fuck all of you, bastards.
Field: sold out. What the hell, field sold out??? If you put them online three tenths ago? Available 2nd and 3rd ring. Fuck you and Pearl Jam.
Time jump...
19.06... 10:30 PM.. Tomorrow Pearl Jam are playing at San Siro. I'm lying on the couch with this bug gnawing at my brain, meanwhile, I also signed up for Pearl Jam Italy on a well-known social network I don't want to name and I read the disputes on Vedder, Gossard, McCready, Ament, and my damn favorite drummer Matt Cameron. Suddenly I notice an ad.. Inner Circle at cost price, selling. It must be mine, at all costs. I write, the guy answers me, he's from Rome.. He's not kidding, he really has it. I think in a second that: God exists after all, that it's practically obvious that other forms of life exist, that Jesus was truly the son of God and that he came back to save at least one among the humans disguised as a Roman with one extra inner circle..
I leave early afternoon, alone.. destination: "a piece of History".. Vedder, damn it, I'm coming, don't even try to have a fit like Cornell on the Songbook tour and cancel the concert because I know you've hurt your leg and you're limping, you won't be at 100%, but you said you'll be there, and if you won't be, I swear on Andrew Wood that I will come looking for you everywhere and I will break your damn leg in three places.
I arrive in Milan, park... I meet the guy.. I make 12 genuflections and at the same time recite 14 Our Fathers and 25 Hail Marys, take the ticket, shell out the cash, and greet him with 5 acts of contrition, we'll meet inside, from now on, at least for the next 8 hours you will be the brother I never had..
You feel great inside the Inner, but really damn great, there's space, you can sit on the ground, lie down on the ground, organize a picnic with a blanket and umbrella because there's so much room.. I wait for the Italy-Ivory Coast match, surely qualified I think.. And out of nowhere a man appears, just as the worst national anthem of the last 2500 years is about to start, with a numbered shirt.. 34 I can read, I'm so close to the stage. I was right, God exists, he has an acoustic guitar, he limps and has a shirt with the number 34. And a wonderful voice. An acoustic "Porch" was the best moment of the whole match, thank you Eddie, from the heart.
After the shittiest match I've ever seen in my life at a world championship, I need to fill the void with something edible so first I spend 20 minutes queuing to pee and another 30-45 to get a shitty hot dog and a medium beer costing more than a gram of gold. Fucking bastards, you will burn in hell.
When the sun, tired and disgusted itself decides to get the hell out of here, just a hair before... A roar is heard as if Aristoteles scored for Longobarda in the championship's last match saving the team from relegation. It's them, they are ethereal, almost transparent, with a halo of light around and a yellow glowing circle on their heads. And a wail of guitar starts, almost intangible, taking me back to 1991, immediately, like a lightning-quick time travel.. To "Ten", the most monumental debut the rock has seen in the last 25-30 years. "Release" begins, and the whole stadium kicks off.. Emotions on a conveyor belt already in the first 30 seconds.. Will I come out alive? People try to overwhelm Vedder, Vedder Vs. 65,000 people, Vedder wins.. No one expected an opening with "Release", you caught everyone off guard old alcoholic veteran.. And I love you, with a profound love.
And it's just the beginning.. "Nothingman" rises melancholic and majestic, followed by the big single "Sirens", just to make us understand that Pearl Jam, 25 years later, are still alive and kicking, eager to play, and can spin out pieces like this effortlessly. However, the question was already lingering in the wait.. Will he or won't he.. Of course, he will.. When "Black" starts I get a lump in my throat.. I'll haul out the damn cell phone only once, to capture that moment, those 7:20 that will be mine forever, that voice, so deep and powerful that it moves mountains.. But enough with the whining, let's get going hard..
"Go" sets the machine in motion for a 300 Km/h ride that will drag everything into a whirlwind of sweat and bodies, Cameron is a pneumatic hammer, doesn't drop by 1/2 a beat, ever.. Perfect, monstrous, almost inhuman, rather, without the almost.. McCready and Ament have fun like teenagers messing around, when you play at being the rockstar in the basement, when you try to mimic your idols and end up looking like a bit of a fool.. But they are the idols, performing now with the same assurance and skill with which I sit on the toilet to relieve myself.. Practically a triumph every single time. Accountant Gossard will always remain, as usual, somewhat in the shadow, weaving panic-inducing guitar plots without ever disturbing too much.
There's no time to recover, "Do the evolution" bites your ankles like the nasty little dog of the old lady next door left loose while you, child, pass by on your bike.. It's evolution baby! And down rocks.. "Corduroy", "Lightning Bolt", "Mind Your Manners".. The new pieces blend well with the history, the guys are traveling at full speed, the stadium shakes. A bit of respite with "Pilate", but the tones immediately flare up again with "MFC", from that Yield I loved so much. When "Given to Fly" begins I think Eddie is already halfway through the bottle (the fifth or sixth I think), but for a seasoned captain like him what do you expect... And indeed he forgets the words in the first part of the piece I awaited the most, the ride of the Valkyries... One of the most emotional crescendos I've ever heard. And you miss it. But who gives a damn, come on, it's there.. It's fucking rock'n'roll after all, it's live, it's blood and sweat. And it's beautiful also for this. After "Who you are" and "Sad" comes the bombshell. "Even Flow", no less, is McCready's show, 4 minutes of solo and an ovation for him.. And you deserve it all damn it Mike..
The games continue with the delightful "Swallowed Whole", "Setting Forth" from the wonderful Into the Wild, leading to a classic, a piece I've always adored.. "Not for you", but I no longer exist, I'm the 4 on that sweat-soaked shirt, the tip, the one that reaches the heart, because Ed always puts it, in everything he does, you feel it, you know it's so, just look at him The story closes with the delirium of "Why Go" and the compelling "Rearviewmirror". And I am now convinced: God exists and is called Eddie Vedder and he brought all the apostles on tour with him.
Is it over? Seh, stocazzo.. The guys, after a brief pause, return to the stage with a much more intimate, much more acoustic set and shoot out "Yellow Moon", "Elderly woman behind the counter in a small town", "Thin Air" and "Just Breathe", just for good measure.. A thing among friends, a guitar, fire, 2 joints, and some wine.. But damn it, it can't go on for long, so in sequence come "Daughter", the majestic and immense "Jeremy", with total collapse of the stands, "Better Man", with partial reconstruction, mayhem in pogo with "Spin the Black Circle", "Luckin" and "Porch" closing. Well.. Come on.. I can die happy, leave me here and all of you go fuck yourselves, I'll reach you later, see you there..
And you think it's over.. But it isn't. Because the anthem of a generation is missing, the one that makes even the old folks in the buildings within a km radius sing.. Because, inside, they know it too. The one that moves everything. "Alive" is missing, and how could it.. In a context like this, on a night like this.. And here come the guys arriving punctually for the grand finale and everyone satisfied. "Alive", "Rockin' in the free world" and "Yellow Ledbetter" closing.. Meanwhile I've died, resurrected 2 times, ascended to heaven at the father's right hand, and returned to be stunned in front of all this. 33 pieces, almost 3 hours of concert, to those who said Pearl Jam no longer have anything to say can respond with a loud #fuckyounevergottomyshitandyouwill... Resign yourself. Pearl Jam are more alive than ever and they'll kick your ass how, when and where you want..
PS: Grunge isn't dead yet, you ugly bastards!
I love you all, indiscriminately..
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