•
Rating: Robert turns 70. Happy birthday, young man.
“If I get the tickets and decide to go, would you come with me to the Plant concert?”
“Sure, why not, gladly.”
“...... no, come on, I'll get it and if I feel like it, I'll go alone ... I'll end up bummed out ...”
“Do whatever you want, why did you ask me then... huh....”
The Countess has known me for a while, and she can now understand my dramas... she knows them almost by heart. It takes her just a few seconds or a look to perfectly understand how the hell I am every day, every minute.
It had been a long time since I saw a concert (even more from beginning to end). Several attempts, more or less failed. The demons - you can call it anxiety, panic attacks, nervous or obsessive-compulsive disorders, etc., etc., etc., by now a psychologist after decades is nothing to me, I exhaust them in two sessions - give me no respite and, especially on these occasions, they give their best. They’re fabulous, they break your balls right where they know you can enjoy the most. Just like that, what kind of demons would they be otherwise...
This time I’m going. With heat so delirious it amplifies my fears and phobias. I hate the heat, sweating, clothes sticking... they drive me nuts. I love the cold.
Train, car?! The train is a mess, I go by car. Driving with anxiety isn’t ideal but having your own car is a very effective escape route (eventual) available against demons if they get angry and if I'm feeling down.
The first drama luckily evaporates into nothing. I calmly reach the Milan racecourse without queues on the ring road, incredible!
A 15-minute walk at a brisk pace and I arrive in front of the racecourse.
The doors open at seven. Already many useless wrecks in line, piled up ... madness.
It’s disgustingly hot, people are drinking, sweating, and stinking. “Dressed” in an outrageous way with tank tops and bermudas... and flip-flops!!!....
Flip-flops??!! Are you freaking kidding me? You’re at the Robert Plant concert and you’re wearing flip-flops?! Which are the emblem of aesthetic (and not only!) disgrace. I wouldn’t even wear them at home or at the beach... are you kidding me?!
Once upon a time, I’d get drunk, now I haven’t touched anything for two and a half years... it’s the hardest moment because the waits are, for me, devastating. I hate waiting, everything rises inside me... The demons have free rein, open field.
I decide to stand next to the line, alone, near a tree and wait for the signal from the staff to throw myself among the rabble. I'm too good-looking and have too much class to stand there in the middle (the demons don’t compromise narcissism).
I’m in the midst of the chaos, what a slow damn mess... trembling, tachycardia, labored breathing... I hold on, try... I arrive, enter... the line is gone, wide spaces, everyone minding their own business... Fabulous.
Now maybe I can think about the concert. I can’t really be happy... but it’s ok, I made it, I’m here and in a couple of hours the Old Man will play.
I wander around the park and immediately notice that the audience drawn by the Old Dinosaur is really of every kind, especially of all ages; from his peers to the very young.
It fills me with pride to see so many young people wearing Led Zeppelin T-shirts.
The women give their best... there are those old Ladies who can be defined as the groupies of the era for Plant (where the term "groupie" for me is meant positively and therefore a most noble compliment despite all the false and slimy prudes), women between 40 and 50, in groups as if they were going to a reunion, to a party, from when they were teenagers. Then there are the very young ones, with their boyfriends; in couples to see the man who could be their grandfather... belisim! During the entire concert, these noble damsels, both aged and young, always dance... fabulous!
Robert has never posed as a rockstar after the Led Zeppelin. His solo career has always been marked by humility, romanticism, serenity, and soulful sweetness. His greatest merit is that of having naturally immersed himself into a new dimension.
How many times have they asked him why not reunite, at least for an album and a tour. Despite the money and all the “positive” consequences, He has always said no. The Led Zeppelin are inside Him but, unlike Jimmy, Robert has always looked forward. As a boy, I “hated” him for these stances, over time I understood them and my esteem for him is infinite.
While waiting for the start, I listen and understand that many of those present have seen him several times over the years, they follow him wherever and whenever they can. Indeed, it doesn’t feel like waiting for a normal concert but rather a event that will transmit something ancient to you. Something to tell your children and grandchildren, so much is the historical baggage of events, legends, mythological tales that this old Gentleman transmits you with his mere presence, even just by thinking and remembering.
Here he is, Robert, 9:00 PM, perfect, with no airs. Only the idiot who needs to shows off.... He is Robert Plant, History, and he doesn’t need tricks and antics to get noticed or, worse yet, to be desired.
In great shape, the Old Man, sincerely I didn’t expect him like this. Polished (for his age, that is), he engages you right away. Plant is part of that last noble patrol of "heroes" who couldn’t care less about the music industry, the business, the money, the success. Maybe because he can afford it, he who between 20 and 30 was a Rock God... or much more likely because he is one of those few who still hold dear values like heart, passion, class, generosity of spirit.
He comes out with his "own" The Sensational Space Shifter a magnificent folk/blues band that live are even better than in the studio. Everything is perfect, nothing is left to chance. Beautiful atmosphere, audience loaded without loser delirium, ready to embrace the emotions that the Old Man will transmit to us.
I keep my eyes closed, as if waiting for .... and it starts with a "The Lemon Song" that ignites right away... everything possible!
I’ve said other times that I think Robert’s voice is more beautiful now than it was in the past, that he knows how to use it much better. Obviously, he doesn’t have the range he used to have half a century ago, but he sings better, more aware of his qualities and current limits. It seems he treats his voice ... like a daughter. Tonight then, it’s not just my impression because confirmed by those who see him often, he’s particularly in shape.
Robert enchants, he always has. He’s never been a physical frontman (even if once he did show off the physique, "package" included) but charismatic. He doesn’t need to run back and forth like Jagger to show he’s in form... Robert speaks to you for a moment, sings... and captures you.
Joking about the cold (it’s disgustingly hot!), joking about being in Europe, he makes fun of his own vocalizations, his own “feminine” high notes (from the past). He talks about blues, about the blues greats (I don’t understand what he says but the names, those I know).
What a freaking voice he still has!
I’m a newcomer to his concerts and so I’m "afraid"... I’d like to hear some Led Zeppelin pieces too, but I’m afraid of being disappointed...
The initial "Lemon Song", however, makes me understand, calms me (oh dear), and makes me happy inside. Robert knows very well that he can’t do the Led Zeppelin pieces as They did. The other three aren’t there, he’s old and has a certain type of musician by his side. He adapts the pieces as best as, I think, he could. That class, Robert, it was never missing!
The band creates wonderful sound patterns, a blend of rock, blues, folk, tribal rhythms, desert atmospheres, Celtic sounds... heavy guitars, acoustic ones, drums, violins, mandolins... a bit like the last, splendid “Carry Fire,” full of everything and with much quality.
All beautiful, very beautiful, but there’s no need to dwell on it... everyone is waiting especially for some of those pieces, those ones. And so after the initial roar for each piece, there follows an almost silent, religious listening, where everyone remembers their own life, the great emotions and thrills had with those songs... an intimate listening, to be kept, to be collected.
And there they all are, marvelously re-imagined. My beloved “Black Dog” is a magnificent stab to the stomach, a splendid version that we all sang together, then “Going To California”... here I feel hit by something, I don’t know what... I decide to go further into the empty piece of field, to lie down, exhausted and very tired, letting myself be embraced by the notes of that magical song.
“Gallows Pole” is that type of traditional folk piece so loved by the Zepp and by Robert and “Baby, I’m Gonna Leave You” is the subsequent inner flashback of memories, a unique outpouring of emotions, gut-wrenching, to say the least.
Ended, I have to get up because I know that she is missing, I feel she’ll do it now in the canonical encore...
And with her, I MUST be standing. No, the OTHER she doesn't do... it belongs to another era.
“Whole Lotta Love” is the quintessential Zeppelinian anthem, the riff that invites everyone to attack, to boarding, a heritage of all. Chills everywhere, everyone jumping and singing that chorus that breaks your heart and brain!
Everyone happy on the way out, aware they have witnessed a splendid concert but above all that they have been part of a piece of rock history thanks to that beautiful Old Man.
I am shattered, happy but in pieces.
The return will be hell, but I’ll get home.
I’m sorry about the noble Algol... I would have gladly met you but wouldn’t have been reliable and I hate not keeping promises or agreed arrangements, at the last minute. I hope for another time...
I dedicate this of mine to all of you who “were there with me,” to my beloved Countesses... and especially to Catia who looks at me from above and who, a little, will be proud of me.
“Thank you”
Loading comments slowly
