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Rating: I couldn't believe it, in the early days of March, when I found out that the Dream Syndicate would be playing again in Italy, with a date at the "Live Club" in Trezzo Sull'Adda, a venue located a handful of kilometers from "Bloom" in Mezzago where they performed in concert last May 29th, and I was there too.
The journey from Domodossola by car was pleasantly accompanied by the notes of their epochal "Live At Raji's" and I arrived in front of the Milan club around 7:30 PM; I immediately met a couple of guys from Calabria and shared with them an evening that promised to be magical from the start.
At 8 o'clock the doors opened and the small group of people waiting could enter; I immediately reached the railing, I was in the front row and my heartbeat came to life, reaching an already quite high emotional threshold. I had time to take a look at the room, which was very slowly filling up, and my attention was caught by a middle-aged man wearing a Frank Zappa t-shirt: I couldn't resist, I approached, greeted him, and complimented him on what he proudly displayed. He told me that he was from Novi Ligure, in the province of Alessandria, and had seen the Genius of Baltimore in concert twice... I was speechless and my heart rate increased!!
9:45 PM: it's time. The first to take the stage is the guitarist Jason Victor, almost shy in greeting us; he immediately grabbed his instrument, creating a distortion wall that lasted a few dozen seconds, just enough time for Steve, Mark, and Dennis to join him. The leader was in front of me, not even two meters away in a red jacket and dark tie; he looked at us, smiled, and the first notes of "When You Smile" played in a slow, very restrained version. I remembered that this song was one of the last ones played last year in Mezzago: a sort of continuation, a bridge that ideally connected the two dates.
The first song faded slowly, leaving me with a feeling of feverish anticipation because the real concert was about to explode; and indeed it was Dennis, wearing a "CBGB" t-shirt, the historic venue of New York where the Punk Brothers were born, who kicked off the sonic assault for the next two hours. The epic riff of "That's What You Always Say" spread, and I literally went off on a tangent: perfect volume and Jason immediately set the venue on fire with his acidic solos, always bent over, with Steve not being outdone. My goodness, we're just at the beginning!! I couldn't even afford a second of rightful pause when "Forest For The Trees" absolutely confirmed that it would be a memorable concert; I was in complete sensory ecstasy, it was one of my favorite songs of the Syndicate, I clung to the railing that supported me, I sang, shouted, moved, embraced my neighbor Francesco: the song's end was incendiary, with the two guitars pulled to the limit and Steve's voice scratching like the good old days. Perhaps twenty minutes had passed, and I began to lose my grasp: fortunately, a first short break came to my aid.
It was only now that I noticed that Steve and Mark had the same instruments immortalized in the famous back cover photo of their most famous live show; guitar and bass that bore the deep marks of many years spent all over the world. They didn't need to show off new instruments to tear up the venue, they just needed heart and passion. And it was the same leader who announced the start of the album "Medicine Show," proposed from the first to the last note to worthily celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of the album's release.
I was ready to face and savor in the best possible way the following minutes that opened with "Still Holding On To You" and its simple riff that once again penetrated deep into my soul, staying there this time forever: it was the apotheosis of that psychedelic Rock of which the Dream Syndicate was among the best exponents. Between one song and another, the break was minimal, as it should be at a real concert; "Burn" made me feel another overwhelming shiver, with its initially sad, slow, calm progression until the chorus that we all sang together, entering the concluding part of the song where I was joined by a brute who embraced me, supporting each other until the end of the song, submerged by an avalanche of electricity with few equals in my long musical career. Then the three concluding gems of the album arrived one after another; it was indeed "Medicine Show" that opened the triptych, with that electric, epic, masterful sound that wrapped around my fragile spirit, overwhelming me: these were emotional moments that I couldn't even describe and remember, so enormous. But the "danger" wasn't over because immediately after that came another sensational and tectonic blow, that "John Coltrane Stereo Blues" which was a ride of pure Rock played at breakneck speed, with Dennis a perfect metronome who didn’t miss a beat: he's turning 61 this year!!! Jason and Steve's guitars drew closer, sending each other into distortion for a long phrasing that had a power of pure redemption: those were minutes of genuine pandemonium, where the Live Club was turned upside down, with a volume that became even more powerful and compelling: we, the audience, very much appreciated this endless cascade of notes and the total delirium it conjured.
I was dazed by all this, incapable of understanding; thankfully the tone suddenly softened when the sweet sound of Steve's guitar announced the arrival of the album-ending track, the marvelous "Merrittville" with its bitter lyricism "...And I Wonder Why, They Left me here in Merrittville"; and after this verse, the guitars once again took center stage, with a sound that suddenly became sparse, violent, that etched into your skin: thrilling, concluding a song that was perfect and annihilating. A long applause closed this part of the concert that I would always remember as memorable and preserve in my spirit.
I checked the time, it was about 11 PM, but it wasn't over yet; the hypnotic riff of "Halloween" set off the last part of the concert, where my remaining few energies were entirely consumed. And it was Steve once again who bombarded us with another intense and acidic solo, where everything was distorted, everything was sulfurous, everything was mystical; Jason eventually joined in, making this yet another demonstration of crystalline class even more dramatic. But the time for that song, perhaps their most famous song, finally came; and it was a true primordial scream that I let out when Steve began with "The Days Of Wine And Roses": it was an authentic call to arms and we, the audience, were overwhelmed by the huge shockwave that the Dream Syndicate was offering us. I couldn't contain myself, I repeated the refrain infinitely until the concluding catharsis where Dennis seemed unwilling to stop, and the others followed suit: a demonstration of sonic compactness that sent me into a total "cosmic journey"; it was my friend, the railing, that held me up...
Perhaps it was the end, it was 11:30 PM, but I was wrong: this time it was Jason who once again and more than before set what was left of us enraptured spectators on fire: the deadly sound of "Definitely Clean," played with Punk vehemence, caught me almost off guard, thanks to an electric flash of immeasurable dimensions, supported as always by a rhythmic section guided by Mark's solid bass. With a spark of reason, I realized that my favorite song was missing: I shouted to Steve "Boston, Boston!!!" and his sly smile told me that it was time for such sonic wonder. The little energy I had left was used to join the leader and sing the entire song, once again finding support from my neighbor; when then the singer approached us, urging the group to lower the volume of the sound, and began intoning "No More, No More, I Don't Want To Be Here Anymore," we, the audience, were in his hands, repeating the chorus in a sort of acoustic unplugged: I touched my face and realized I had teary eyes. But it wasn’t the time for emotion; I was awaiting the song's finale, where yet another verse sung by all of us certified the definitive surrender: "Do You Remember When We Used To Sing: Sha la la la la la la....." the guitars screamed along with us and Dennis's military drumbeat closed the long track.
One by one, the band left the stage, Steve tossed the pick which I brushed and it fell beyond the barricade: I saw it but couldn't reach it. I asked for help from the aforementioned brute who, holding me by the legs, allowed me to reach the precious relic that I would cherish dearly. But the concert wasn't over yet. They returned to the stage and began the solemn and mystical "When The Curtains Falls," a track that concluded the last album published in 1988 by the Dream Syndicate, ideally concluding a show that was nothing short of insane; but the relative calm was finally swept away by the final jewel of their performance: "Rock'n'Roll" cover by Lou Reed. And once again, all instruments were manhandled for a concluding musical orgy that the musicians seemed unwilling to end; little more than two hours had passed since the start and amidst endless applause, it all concluded: a standing ovation.
I thanked my nearby companions Francesco and Silvia, the two girls from Legnano on my right, and a guy from Rome who would stop in Ravenna the next day to see them again: lucky him. Nonetheless, we all had no doubt: we had participated in a memorable, exceptionally beautiful concert. A band that once again demonstrated what it means to play well, with immense class and, above all, having fun: if it's not the concert of a lifetime, it's certainly among my best.
But the intense emotions were not yet over; not even ten minutes passed since the concert ended and Steve greeted us near the bar. I was one of the first to shake his hand and with my hesitant English, I thanked him for the thirty years of wonders he had given me through his music; I noticed from his tightening grip that he understood and he smiled at me, nodding. I didn't know how I still found a spark of lucidity and showed him my Primus t-shirt, asking if he knew them. His response was "I Don't Like Primus" but it didn't matter Steve, I will continue to love you infinitely.
I left the venue in total ecstasy and slowly headed back home, which I reached at the stroke of 2.00 AM; there was still one thing left for me to do to close the ideal circle of perfection. I quietly entered the dark room of my daughter Elisa Nicole; I approached her as she slept, a caress and a kiss were my usual greetings before going to bed. Now I could say: it was an unforgettable evening, with absolute thrills.
I have concluded, and this time may I dedicate my writing to a person from the site: to you, my Dearest Friend from Saluzzo... you know why. Alegher, Stame bin fiol!!!
Ad Maiora.
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