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Rating: Last Sunday evening, a dreadful, inexcusable, and inexplicable crime took place in Milan.
"Inter won the championship," you might say, but no, it's even worse: the Fleshtones, yes, them, the great, unique, legendary, indestructible, and inimitable Fleshtones played at the Musicdrome (right behind San Siro, just to stay on topic) in front of about fifty people.
While it was conceivable that the weather was unforgiving and sporting events might distract from the appointment with one of the most genuine bands in the universal rock scene, the extent of the snubbing is astounding. To prevent such acts of infamy from happening again, I would propose compulsory courses in musical culture with the introduction of lifelong hard labor for those who fail them...
Why were there only a handful of people enjoying Zaremba & Co.'s effervescent show (especially Keith Streng, truly in great shape) as they jumped all over as they customarily do, gymnastically up and down the stage & up and down (still gymnastically and without missing a beat) off the stage chasing each other among the audience & interacting variably with them - including myself who first risked being decapitated by an innocently homicidal spin of Mr. Streng's gleaming guitar neck as he launched himself off the stage and then being crippled by Mr. Zaremba's microphone stand who, not to be outdone by his colleague, also launched himself (I don't think they had anything against me, these are things that happen with the Fleshtones on the loose).
What to say then? I and the few others present there enjoyed a solid hour of music without ifs and buts and especially without any b******t cabaret with four mature and highly skilled musicians who, true professionals as they are, punched their time cards without holding back even though they only had a few people in front of them; drummer Bill Milhizer hidden behind his set after refreshing himself with beer and whiskey at the local bar before the show, Peter Zaremba always fringed and overall tonic, although at times a bit dim (unfortunately penalized by the mixing that gave him very little voice) and often hidden behind his little keyboard, a fiery Streng ready to steal the scene forcefully with Ken Fox (the bassist) helping him. The setlist was quite focused on the latest album ("Take A Good Look", obviously in their style but very fresh and very good just the same) and on the most recent production (robust as the Fleshtones repertoire is I think it could be better plundered, but so be it) with Back To School and Feels Good To Feel, Love Yourself, Bigger And Better in great shape + in the pseudo final encore the super gem Screaming Skull.
It was the only Italian date, I cry for those who weren't there...
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