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Rating: (INTRO: This review is too long. Friend? Yes, you, yes, yes, exactly you, you who have opened this page. You don't like long reviews? Well. The creators of the World Wide Web have thought of you too. At the top left, there's a button just for you. Just click on it. Peace.)
June 23, 2007, half-past six.
On http://www.sherwood.it it says "concerts start: 9:00 PM" but, as usual, I don't really trust it. "What if I arrive late, and maybe I don't get a good spot, or perhaps there are lots of people and then how do I see the concert?". Hamletian doubts that require a prompt answer. Ready, set, go. Let's start walking. Two and a half hours before the scheduled time. Also on the Radio Sherwood site, it says that the concerts will, as usual, be held in the North parking lot of the Stadio Euganeo. There and then I'm filled with doubts, then I manage to call myself an idiot (quite the courage, believe me) and decide to adhere to the good DJs' directions. Stadio Euganeo means about one hundred and fifty, two hundred meters at most from "home sweet home": on foot.
I manage to walk fifty meters when a voice, carried by the wind, rises up: it sounds like a song, I think to myself, furrowing my brow. Wanna bet...? I feel frozen when I hear an indistinguishable "The Last News Is The Same As Always!". I quicken my pace with my heart in my throat
"No, damn it, not now, damn it, why right now, why me...
and in the meantime I continue, unaware that, meanwhile, the sound has stopped
...see, I was right not to trust, darn it... in the end, they always change the times...
then I stop.
...but wait a moment, you can't hear anything anymore".
I arrive in the parking lot around a quarter past seven: in front of me are two sound technicians, a man with glasses wearing a sleeveless tank top, and two girls chatting while sitting on a low wall. Everywhere I look, I see stands and stalls. And then the stage, the huge stage. With them on it, the Petrol. Who are simply rehearsing. While I barely stop myself from committing suicide, I breathe a sigh of relief. And I go on happily humming the choruses of the last songs.
June 23, 2007, nine o'clock.
Stefano and I - who in the meantime reached me from not-so-far Tower - are eagerly awaiting the start of the concert. Directly, and firmly, positioned in the front row. In front of our eyes, a stream of people begins to flow past - mostly middle-aged couples -, all inexorably drawn by the aromas coming from the various tents. But the stage, and the space in front of it, are still deathly empty. Behind us, there are two guys deep in conversation, mouthing one word every five curses, which not even the king of Triveneto - uber alles - Germano Mosconi could beat. A reconnaissance round reveals to us that the supporting band is still blissfully lost in various foods, while the dark silhouettes of the Petrol can be glimpsed backstage, in the midst of a group dinner. All we can do now is wait. We sigh, but the wait electrifies the spirits. And in the meantime, we kill time talking about how ugly black metal is.
June 23, 2007, ten o'clock.
Finally, around ten in the evening, the curtain is lifted. The four guys, whom we had seen less than an hour before tackling an endless row of bigoli with ragu, have settled onto the wooden boards. They are called Massimo Danieli Soulshift, they come from Piove Di Sacco, boast a personal following of admirers - in the front row, next to us, of course - and they will be the ones to introduce, this evening, the main event: the Petrol performance. Their offering consists of melancholic indie rock, as energetic in sound as it is tender in lyrics - which, to be honest, are occasionally somewhat banal. The songs, drawn from their debut promo, glide by without distinction: the singer and guitarist - cited entirely in the band name - knows how to engage the (few) audience members, leaving the other guitarist the task of upholding the technical skeleton (a couple of solos are noteworthy). Special mention goes to bassist Diego, impassible throughout the concert, despite Danieli's multiple desperate attempts to engage him. In summary, they pass. With reservations.
The clock strikes a quarter to eleven when, finally, the Petrol stride out from the wings, composed and focused, to take the stage, much to the delight of the present crowd. Compared several times to a group capable of transforming the figure of De Andrè holding a modern Gibson, they are formed by Franz Goria (singer and guitarist, former frontman of the Turin-based Fluxus), Dan Solo (bassist, former mainstay of Marlene Kuntz), Ale Bavo (keyboardist, previously in Sushi: noted for a t-shirt saying "Hit Me With Music..."), Valerio Alessio (drummer, with some experiences in the heavy metal field), and Nino Azzarà (second guitarist, still in Mambassa). Their debut album, "Dal Fondo", which will be extensively featured tonight, consists of powerful, cultured, dark and layered rock, perfectly supported by deep, conscious, intelligent lyrics, often acidic. Strictly in Italian.
The opening is entrusted to "Cera" - the opening track of the album - a refined and disorienting ballad ("It's your wax eyes/ and your important hands/ it's the courtyards now empty in the evening/ and those sounds, scattered among the many"), which in live performance loses its delicacy and is skillfully roughened, in a swirl of electrolytes and arpeggios, needlessly mentioned, scattered among the many. And, after a few moments, one is captured by the suffering poetry of "Ogni Silenzio" - opened by a beautiful bass line - lovingly chiseled in the fingers of Franz and Dan, which knows how to sweep through the audience with its languid power, then morphing into a steel fist, a liberating outburst ("That skin that can't know regret/ I would have to lose/ change, tear, find the air again").
But it's when you hear the notes of the first single extracted, "Nel Buio", that you truly understand the enormous potential of this fabulous band. The many rhetorical questions, coldly pronounced by Goria, like a dry machine-gun burst, are accompanied by a pounding instrumental section, and ascend in a climax of bitterness, finding in the chorus their natural - and distressing - outlet, complete with blinding and psychedelic lights... before the sonic explosion, a whirlwind of metal swamped by a cyclone of ruthless synths.
"What's that makes you feel...normal?"
Indeed, what is it, what is it that makes us feel normal? It's undeniable that, despite the driving beat, something has opened up among the audience: a chasm of doubt, remorse, guilt. And it's a magnetic fascination that Petrol exert: no one wants - or seems to want - to give it up, up to this point. Thus, it's the task of "Petrol", a dark instrumental from the group's eponymous first EP, to make a further breach among the attendees, thanks to a sneaky guitar that remains throughout the track's duration, in harmony with the oily background harmonization.
Total exposure, the rejection of modern stereotypes, the innovative proposal of a textual change excluding the now too obvious themes of the average Italian song: these are all objectives of the Turin band, which reach their fulfillment in the marvelous social critique of "Il Nostro Battito Del Cuore", the watershed of the concert, over six minutes of true lyricism made music, midway between De Andrè, Fossati, early punk, '90s dark wave, managing not to be overwhelmed by angry impulses, making way for an impotent bitterness ("Our society, rich in intelligent machines/ moldy brains and increasingly powerful drugs/ in this society, where people are clean/ and believe it's right... to sacrifice themselves in life" or again, made clearer and pronounced in the live performance, "You need to buy, you need to see/ you need to live, and you kill for power/ you need a need that makes you part/ of this society, where you will be the strongest"). And it is a consecration.
From now on, everything seems much more amplified. The audience perceives, rather than truly understands, the plots woven in the band's tracks. They manage to make the poignant melody of "Devo Andare Via Domani" their own, which live folds into a soft and intimate picture, with minimalist accompaniment. They manage to take in the enormous impact caused by "L'Ultima Notizia È La Stessa Di Sempre" (precisely the one that had made me break out in a cold sweat, just a few hours earlier), probably the best song of the evening, over three minutes of abundant rock denunciation, dark and viscous ("The last news is the same as always/ believe the images, and question nothing"), played with passion, vigor, and energy. Not forgetting the usual, traditional touch of class.
It's extraordinary to see how the most varied influences blend in the winning recipe of Petrol, without confronting or harming each other. It is striking, thus, to hear a track like "Tradiscimi" right after "L'Ultima Notizia È La Stessa Di Sempre": if the latter is a nonconformist blow, the former is a stretch of moderately energetic rock 'n' roll, with low consumption, much like the productions of the much more famous fellow citizens Subsonica, both textually and musically. The reason for this sudden and rapid inspiration? One must rely on the following composition, which in a title contains all the answers to our questions. "Senza Alcuna Ragione", say our people from Piedmont, rightly: because everything seems to be without reason, in these modern times. Only the melody seems more thought-out, consistent with the band's typical sound... dark, deep, somber, perseverant.
It becomes apparent, at this point, that the grand performance is nearing its end, with the final lines. After disappearing backstage for a few moments, the four return to the stage and indulge in another couple of tracks. The first is "Wu Ming (Cherry Valley)", contained in the compilation "Mantuana", a highly theatrical piece, sneaky and with tribal rhythms, offered in an instrumental version, with an electronic explosion at the end. The last is an unreleased track from the same band, "Now I Cry", strongly imbued with punk, fast and engaging, which perfectly complements Franz's rough voice, this time in English.
It's all over. The people leave, somewhat puzzled, somewhat disturbed, many happy and exhilarated. Stefano and I turn simultaneously and look into each other's eyes. And I understand that he too, like me, managed to truly, deeply understand the value of this concert. Words aren't needed.
Powerful, visceral...emotional. From the first to the last note.
SETLIST:
"Cera"
"Ogni Silenzio"
"Nel Buio"
"Petrol"
"Il Nostro Battito Del Cuore"
"Devo Andare Via Domani"
"L'Ultima Notizia È La Stessa Di Sempre"
"Tradiscimi"
"Senza Alcuna Ragione"
ENCORE:
"Wu Ming (Cherry Valley)"
"Now I Cry"
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