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Rating: And who would have ever thought it!
Yet here I am too, reaching the fateful milestone: my HUNDREDTH review in this madhouse. Because Debaser is a place for mad people; but also, and above all, for those who truly understand Music. Long live Debaser, therefore.
A milestone that seemed like a mirage; and yet here I am. I had a revelation just a few minutes ago, thinking about one of the most memorable, lively, heartfelt, and engaging concerts (how many punches taken and given) I've attended.
And 25 years have passed, for heaven's sake. But enough with unnecessary embellishments, I turn on my "prodigious" time machine; I fasten my seatbelt and set off...IT'S ALIVE...
"I was working in a paper mill in the province of Bologna; truly a grueling job. But I was young and strong, and hard work was my daily bread. I find out, through one of the first issues of the magazine "Rumore", that the four hooligans from the Big Apple are going to play in Correggio on March 17. I don't think twice: I take a couple of hours off and, together with a friend, Marco, who didn't even know the Ramones, we set off by train, reaching Reggio Emilia station in the early evening hours.
There are no other means to continue: not a train or bus in sight. We get directions for Correggio and start walking, hitchhiking. A kind soul stops and takes us to the entrance of the already open Palasport because the show is about to begin. We buy the ticket, which I still meticulously and obsessively keep, and go inside.
It's March but the heat that greets us is immediately overwhelming; as is the prevailing scent of "smoke". Marco decides to sit down, something I categorically refuse: are you kidding me!?! Sitting at a Ramones concert! My first time with them has to be experienced at the front lines, in a mosh pit, with a mosh never so fun and contagious.
Just a few more moments of waiting, distracted by a cigarette of questionable origin (things I have given up for years now, believe me!!), and the awaited moment arrives. All the lights go out and the recorded notes of that anthem by the famous Morricone - Leone duo, which for years commenced the concerts of the Punk brothers, play. One by one, Marky, CJ, Joey, and Johnny take the stage; then the next hour of sonic assault begins, still remembered with immortal shivers.
Hey Ho, Let's Go is the battle cry that hundreds of people shout in unison, like a propitiatory rite before the instrumental "Durango 95" blasts in everyone's face. The frenzy starts immediately, from the first second; I dive into the chaos, the wild throng that forms from the first notes. The usual setlist they've repeated for years; and there are the generational anthems "Teenage Lobotomy", "Psycho Therapy" and "Blitzkrieg Bop". It's the bassist CJ setting the rhythm changes with the famous "onetwothreefour" that's so quintessentially Punk.
They don't pause for a single moment; the first half-hour is something cyclonic in terms of emotional intensity; I'm already sweating like a beast but it doesn't matter. Multiple times I launch myself onto the crowd for a series of stage dives for the ages; what a great guy I was. Joey is a motionless statue, struggling to make minimal movements. Occasionally, he manages to raise the microphone stand. The two comrades beside him, Johnny to his right and CJ on the other side, move like madmen, guitars and basses hanging at knee level. Marky is the usual solid metronome behind the drums. No technique, only heart and soul at stratospheric levels... Damn, I get shivers at the memory guys.
It continues at full steam with "Rock and Roll Radio", "I Believe in Miracles", "Rock and Roll High School", "Sheena is a Punk Rocker". "Rockaway Beach", "Pet Sematary", my goodness what a beating, what pain, but what limitless pleasure. It's time for "Surfin Bird" and here the walls of the venue seem to crumble under so much fury, both from the Ramones and from us. I keep going like a possessed person, heedless of falls. I get up undaunted and continue my destructive work on my very tested body; but I can't, I mustn't give in because it's time for "Pinhead": the heavens open!!!!!!!!! GABBA GABBA HEY, GABBA GABBA HEY...
At most an hour has passed, and they have played the usual thirty songs; they leave for a few minutes. I, we have time to catch our breath, then they return, and we continue with the concluding barrages: "Chinese Rock", "We're a Happy Family (proud to be a part of it) and they close with a "Judy is a Punk" that manages to still make victims. Then they leave definitively and thus the assault is concluded.
I'm exhausted, bruised, a rag of a man; or rather half a man since I was a young boy. The next day at work I'm a total mess, with a bursting head and a body that will remain limping for days. But it doesn't matter; I witnessed something that's still etched in and will remain forever."
Here I stop, and it was a pleasure for me to recall it all. Written today like never before with my heart in hand; heedless of errors and incorrect verb tenses... CRETIN HOP...
It is obligatory at this point to dedicate it to all of you at Debaser and especially to the "usual" Pinhead and Galensorg, who just a few days ago also surpassed the milestone of a hundred reviews.... I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary...
To Greater Things.
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