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Rating: The posters on the streets warmly wish us well: our Pino Masaniello is presenting a free live stop of none other than his electric trash jam tour in the city of saints, artists, and merchants, Pagani (Sa), my city.
My ears are ringing with spoiled phone conversations, sore muscles beg for mercy from pre-exam studies, so it's time to restructure, or at least, seek refuge. Let's also admit that you never deny an old flame... Neapolitan spark a complete acoustic layout, even if you fear he might show up with an overstuffed belly, j-ax, but above all, just some 'desire to make a mere appearance and take care of yourself.
The square isn't crowded to the brim; the security service is understandably quite precarious; other bad omens of a night headed south loom in the background. With a bit of luck, my group and I slide in behind a television crew making their way through the crowd (with accents indicating little detachment from mine, oddly) from all over, and we manage, still by chance, to grab a good spot even if off to the side.
The concert finally begins.
Masaniello is not usually perfectly on time, and even though on a stage adorned with candelabras and tireless light tricks he resembles Tommy Thayer, he immediately greets us with his "jazz ensemble" Barba, Zurbolo, and Podio on drums, double bass/electric bass, and piano, respectively. So, no nonsense here. From there, the evening takes a great turn. In two hours, you could say everything is almost perfectly organized. There is always emotionally supported involvement, with a setlist alternating the old blues revivals from the '70s to the recent productions, the latter being less mushy thanks to the commitment and constant attitude to both voice and instrument, which are, honestly, we're exaggerating, applause-worthy.
When perhaps vocal limits become evident, marked by some lowering of the octave in the more excited parts, the best Italian bluesman's guitar feeling never falters. A guitar that entertains, grants candor and emphasis just as the drizzle has already adorned your face and persistently pricks, phrases acid grooves with the double bass, introduces acrobatic and graceful solos (such as the memorable one on drums, appropriately falling right amidst Yes I Know My Way, incredibly engaging, very prog, nostalgically recalling the best of De Piscopo).
Surprising interludes with typically jazzy traits offer a counterbalance to the banality, if we want, of songs that say: "I seek the sun within me", perhaps these sounds are subliminal calls for a break to return to the past? Who knows... I only know that if he happens to come near you, keeping up this momentum and the outcome that follows, guys... I would even spend a few euros...
Almost always a fallibility to technique, but sentiment, and that’s what we had been asking from you for 20 years, Pino, and feared you might not be able to offer anymore; yet, for better or for worse, on the night of 5/1/10, you did.
Thank you
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