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Rating: Few people tonight, scattered guys in the dim light sipping beers.
The wait feels like gathering listeners. And little by little, it reaches the legal number. Nothing comparable to the chaos for Afterhours at the Villaggio Globale. But I don't mind having a bit more space for once.
Perturbazione comes out and sets up with the base of "Dieci anni dopo". They're not stars; they don't want to be. They start humbly, with sporadic voices from the audience cheering them on.
Then the protagonist of the evening arrives: Tommaso Cerasuolo presents himself to the "crowd" barefoot and with an untucked shirt, curly hair, and that shy look. He's like me, I tell myself. I'm convinced. Then I realize I haven't written songs. I don't have curly hair. I don't behave like an artist, even though I'd like to be, like many others, after all. And I am, in fact, not barefoot. Oh well, never mind.
The voice that on the record was convincing here envelops, warm and intimate. It's hard to talk about the others, Rossano and Cristiano Lo Mele, Gigi Giancursi, and Stefano Milano, who moreover carry out their tasks as they should: at most, Elena Diana stands out for her personal interpretation of Mary Poppins. Very funny, really.
Tommy sings, agitates, acts, comments between songs. And he says strange things, tells stories, invents. All with that tone between embarrassed and amused. He attracts you like a real entertainer. He just doesn't do it with the badass stereotypes of certain rock but with sweetness.
So the inevitable chorus during "Agosto" ends with his silent and beautiful thank you, hand on the heart, the lively "SMS" is opened by his personal idea of a concert-lighter ("take out your cell phones, turn them on and wave them") and shortly after we find ourselves shouting all our names in a quirky group introduction attempt.
Then there are the two fantastic descents from the stage: a chilling "Per te che non ho conosciuto", darkness filled only by his voice towards the end, and "Il senso della Vite" with the audience invited to squat, to go closer to the ground. To roll in the dust, if they wish. As Tommaso does without hesitation.
Ah, I forgot: Tommy sweats. While the others get slightly damp, he produces cascades that make him quickly shiny. When he agitates, it's like seeing a dog shaking off after a swim. But you'd forgive him this and more.
Criticisms? A few more songs wouldn't have hurt, especially because the absences were significant for me (above all, "Arrivederci Addio," unless I missed it falling asleep suddenly, because it was supposed to be on the setlist).
Boiling it down to the basics: I started my evening with the usual depressed questions about life, the future, and similar, and after the Perturbazione treatment, I found myself smiling, laughing, "stopping to think." And without needing a joint!
Thank you, guys, thank you from the bottom of my heart!
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