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Rating: The memory is faded, but it is still a memory. March 10th, 2001, I remember this because, as usual, and for anyone like me living in Rome, it’s easy to recall the scarcity of concerts that dominated the capital during that period: even to see AlBano, one had to take the car and face a "journey". The destination of my journey that day was Milan, exactly the Palalido of Milan. The point was that Miss Polly Jean Harvey was performing only that evening, only at that time, only that once in Italy, and I simply couldn't miss it. My curiosity towards that girl started with "Rid of Me": an immature, harsh album, not at all delicate despite being somewhat virginal in some nuances, if you will; for all this, a peculiar, unforgettable, irreplaceable album. At the time of the concert, her album "Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea" had just been released, much more refined, more "American" than "Rid of Me" and "To Bring You My Love".
The evening opens with none other than the Giant Sand, who give us a good hour (perhaps less...) of music, and we dance, amused by the sound of famous covers, like "Out On The Weekend" by the good old Neil Young. The air starts to get dense with smoke, so much so that when the Giant Sand leave, someone from the stage explicitly asks us, as a personal favor to PJ Harvey, not to smoke. As if... it was like not having asked! Anyway, a little before 9:30 PM, the lights go out, and PJ, without any dramatic entrances and gifts, arrives on stage along with the other musicians. Her slender figure, clad in a fiery red dress that reveals her bare legs on very high stiletto heels, moves sinuously on a bare stage, naked, hoarse, like her voice. Polly is very thin, and when she grabs her guitar, she seems even more so. Her white skin highlights a violent, electric makeup in total contrast with her diaphanous face, yet it suits her.
The setlist features a mix of old and new songs, but the intensity doesn't change: she is always unmistakable, that voice that oscillates between iron and soft in the span of a second. When she starts "To Bring You My Love", the crowd roars. But she's there, not doing any of the things I thought she would do, swaying, moving sensually, playing the tambourines with lacquered nails... Anyway. I don't know... she seems more "woman". As I watch her, I sense in her elegance, sophistication, she no longer seems like the nervous and gloomy girl from the "Man Size" video, sitting on a stool, with her hair tied in a simple ponytail and unmade up. I like her like this too, but... I sense a certain detachment. Maybe it's because she has laryngitis! The fact is, after a single encore ("Down by the Water"), she apologizes for her not-so-perfect vocal condition and leaves.
The concert lasted an hour, or slightly more. Thankfully, a few years later, with the release of "Uh Huh Her," I had the chance to see her live again (and this time in Rome!), at least I managed to dispel that sense of incompleteness that had been left with me, a concert that felt like a return to the origins, both in terms of sound and style... but maybe we’ll talk about that another time.
Ps: that one didn't last long either!
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