IW Campania Selections - 3rd night

There's Life Beneath the Rubbish

These reports are starting to sound a little too much alike. Third stop with the Campania selections for Italy Wave: the words change, depending on the writer's own particular strain of inspiration, but the impressions converge, or even go a bit further than that. We're now past the halfway point: more than half the bands have played, and it's possible to draw a first plausible assessment, one that goes beyond mere coincidence. I feel the need to preface this with a general observation, which to some might sound like a kind of local self-congratulation, but it's anything but that. I've never really followed the local, regional or national scene all that closely, working from the feeling — in some cases the conviction — that it was built on a thinly-veiled system of favours and backroom deals (whether born of pseudo-friendships or plain commercial dealing makes not the slightest difference). I'm even more convinced of this since taking on this role as a selector. I'll say it plainly: there are people here who play, who play well (and I'm not just talking technique), who have drive, passion and quality. I've met them, and there must be plenty more scattered across Italy — the same country where only a handful get any promotion, and a rather mismatched handful at that.

It's the usual problem of a country that has condemned itself to live amid conflicts of interest, a lack of professionalism, and compromise. I was thinking: in Italy there are three types of music, which really just conceal three types of struggle: the Sanremo acts, fighting for their ten thousand euros; the Sanremo rejects, fighting for their thousand euros; the independents, fighting for their hundred euros. The other night on TV, Frankie HI-NRG and Federico Zampaglione, in a rare moment of public honesty, were arguing over who had gone downhill more over the years. It's a ridiculous situation. So I want to pay a compliment to all the bands who have, yes, honoured us, playing with a smile the double role of roadies and artists, and creating an atmosphere of human and professional togetherness of the highest order — one that goes well beyond what is, after all, a competition, and amounts to a fine life lesson that ought to be put into practice every day, in every context. To them, and to all the musicians in our country and beyond who approach music with this spirit, goes my sincere thanks.

Right, rant over — let's get to the heart of the evening. As last Friday, we're all back at the SudTerranea Club in Naples: opening the dances are Rosso Rubino, the first ethno act to play this edition. A sextet missing one member (trumpeter Luca Aquino is out promoting his "Sopra le nuvole", a blend of jazz and electronics released just days ago by Universal), the Benevento act present a winning mix of singer-songwriter fare, jazz shadings and folk suggestions. Buoyed by the great voice and presence of Lorenzo Catillo, the band develops its tight-knit sonic weave (guitar-drums-double bass-keyboard or accordion), the backdrop to stories that, as they themselves put it, blend everyday life with imagination. The delightful marriage of lyrics and music takes just a couple of songs to visibly win over the crowd filling the small venue. It's true, Rosso Rubino do seem like the perfect club band, thanks to the atmosphere they create and their undeniable gift for entertaining — and yet I could easily picture them on much bigger stages too. A flawless, engaging performance, the fruit also of the technical skill and stage maturity of the individual members. A very, very good start.

Second band up are Aversa's own Miriam in Siberia: of everything heard so far, this is perhaps the act with the greatest untapped potential. Miriam in Siberia are a pop-rock quartet who emotionally recall Cesare Malfatti's new project — the former La Crus guitarist now leading Amor Fou. The melodic side is excellent, especially when the keyboard takes the lead (as on the closing track); the instrumental command is also strong, as is the more rock-oriented attitude they show on stage. There are some issues, though, with how the two souls of the band cohere, and with the singer/guitarist, who doesn't yet manage the dual role smoothly; the lyrics could also use some work. They can and must grow to fully express the talent they're already showing today, perhaps by shaking off a few Verdena-esque echoes along the way.

You get up on stage and notice the keyboard being wheeled away, replaced by a sheet of metal. Yes, it's time for Nembrot, a noise trio from Saviano, to take over. The setup on the backline is this: at the back, drums, a steel lid and a chain; on the left, sheet metal and a guitar played with a metal bow; on the right, a second guitar. You might expect sonic terrorism, pure noise. It isn't that. I don't want to pass myself off as some great expert on noise — my usual listening habits lie elsewhere entirely — but I do know a little about the scene, and I think I can tell the difference between someone playing gratuitously, hiding behind an artistic pose, and someone who's simply a bit too conceptual. I liked Nembrot on record, because even as they shunned familiar musical shapes and searched for roads still being paved, they kept alive and visible the sense that there was real meaning behind what they were putting out. Tonight they delivered ten times more. Beyond the sheer fascination of watching music like this performed live (heightened by the trio's excellent stage presence), it was the sound itself that revealed more to the audience — who, surprisingly, rewarded them by staying put and applauding with real conviction. And not only during the more rhythmic passages, built on the interlocking of sheet metal and drums, but also when all the energy was unleashed in the devastating final wall of sound: a new way of making cosmic music, with a wall of distortion that still held onto a faint identity and harmony. Booming and metallic, certainly, but capable of moments of genuinely moving involvement. You're left stunned — and I mean physically too, since even once the night was over my hearing stayed scrambled, only returning to normal the following morning.

When the second Benevento act of the night, Lamia, run into amplification trouble, your first thought is that the previous band simply blew everything out. The quartet, who have nothing to do with Genesis ("we only found out afterwards that our name was also the title of one of their songs"), offer up one of the most original proposals heard so far. Rock, nothing but rock, coiling in on itself in dark, bloodied ballads, sung in the feminine-toned voice of Enrico Falbo and rattled by Radiohead-esque swells and dips. A highly personal result, executed flawlessly on stage, with the band standing out for its sonic tightness, instrumental quality and interpretation, never letting you feel the absence of the arrangements (piano and violin) present on record. And also for the professionalism and maturity with which they let none of the aforementioned technical problems, which had disrupted the first part of their set, rattle them in the slightest.

I'll admit, great music so far, but you need a change of pace. And it's the perfect moment for Gino Fastidio, whom my fellow organiser Salvador Nero perfectly describes as a post-post-post-fun-punk band (which means nothing at all, and yet makes perfect sense). A trio in white lab coats, fake noses and moustaches, the Fastidio gentlemen are champions of social critique hidden beneath a veneer of madcap absurdity ("you've lost yourself, but maybe that's because you waste your time watching everyone else?"). Twenty minutes of three-chord, hilarious show set to danceable rhythms, culminating in the genuine underground hit "Buste": go to their myspace and listen to the remix version. If for Rosso Rubino I was picturing stages in Liguria, here I picture the squares of Naples, maybe right outside the town hall: theirs is the outburst of every ordinary citizen, and, what's more, it's the plain and simple truth.

We wrap up at three, in a mood of post-booze cheer and genuine camaraderie. Another really great night. The crowd was bigger than on opening night, despite the fact that most of the bands weren't local. I hope people went home happy, and that even more turn out tonight for the fourth and second-to-last date. On the bill are four more bands: the frenzied rhythms of Naadir, evolving from metal towards funk; the refined jazzy melodies of Marco Saltatempo; the rock of Sula Ventrebianco, caught between hardcore, indie and Neapolitan tradition (which, for those who don't know, has nothing to do with 99 Posse); and the reckless punk-pop of The Wisers.

There's life beneath the rubbish: the trouble is, there's really far too much of it.

(07/03/2008)

Ride the wave of great music

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