Zamboni - Baraldi - Nada

Ferragosto evening in Santa Severa, a small and (all too) quiet seaside town a few kilometers from Rome: what to do? The fireworks at the Castle are lovely, but nearby Cerveteri has a festival with a promising lineup. The first taste, two nights earlier, with a performance by Antonella Ruggiero, was convincing, and free too, just like tonight's midsummer-night concert. This time, though, there's the flavor of an event: three pillars of Cccp — Massimo Zamboni, Giorgio Canali and Fatur — reunite on the Etruria Eco Festival stage, along with new vocalist Angela Baraldi, who has been accompanying Zamboni on tour for over a year, and an exceptional guest star in Nada. Interesting. Though replacing Giovanni Lindo Ferretti with a female voice is certainly a bold gamble. Hardly a case of sticking to the party line.

It's with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, then, that we approach the stage, set right in the heart of the ancient Etruscan and Roman town. We make our way past the kiosks and stalls in Parco della Legnara, a village of eco and organic stands devoted entirely to environmental sustainability. There's a large and decidedly varied crowd, quite unlike what a show like this would draw in the usual underground temples: families, elderly people, children, and plenty of the young and not-so-young who followed every step of the Cccp-Csi saga live and don't want to miss this reunion among friends, organized by Zamboni to celebrate thirty years of "Ortodossia" (the eponymous red-vinyl Ep was actually released in 1984).

Once the more than respectable homegrown post-rockers Astrid Hotel finish their set, the lights go down and a hysterical scream tears through the night: "Emilia paranoica". Angela Baraldi's voice rings out powerful, the guitars slice the air with piercing feedback. And many in the audience already have their eyes wide open. Some shake their heads: maybe they'd only come because the concert was free, or because they expected a nostalgic evening with Nada singing "Ma che freddo fa" (gorgeous as it is) and other Sixties evergreens. They hadn't factored in Soviet punk. Nor the deranged situationism of the ineffable Fatur, who reappears on stage in all his bulk, showing off his belly and half his backside to the crowd. It's too much, and before long a natural selection takes place: only the faithful remain, along with a few curious and brave souls (including some unpredictable elderly folks). Still plenty of people, in any case. And indeed the atmosphere soon heats up, with the musicians on stage seeming to soak up the audience's positive energy and building on it more and more.

The wildest of the lot is Baraldi: white shirt and skinny black tie à-la Patti Smith, the former investigator of "Quo Vadis, Baby" unleashes a surprising stage presence, jumping and dancing around with the fire of a born frontwoman. But what really astonishes is her voice: her qualities had been known since the early days of her long apprenticeship (she was discovered by Lucio Dalla back in 1990, and has since worked with practically every major name in Italian songwriting), but she's now developed a strange, dark, almost masculine timbre that fits these songs perfectly. A transformation helped along, by her own account, by the tour with Giorgio Canali for the Joy Division tribute project (see the interview he gave us a few months ago), which now opens the door to an intriguing artistic "second life" for her.

The pairing of "Valium Tavor" and "Live in Pankow" hits like a punch to the gut. Two blistering hardcore outbursts, with Zamboni and Canali's corrosive guitars tearing back open the paranoid nightmares of a generation of zombies chasing antidepressants, sedatives and sleeping pills: “Il valium mi rilassa/ il serenase mi stende/ il tavor mi riprende”. Then that journey behind the Iron Curtain: Pankow, Warsaw, Sofia, Budapest, Prague... the Wall, the anguish of the Cold War. More than a song, an anthem for an entire era.

With "In viaggio" we cross into territory of Csi and one of their classics ("Ko de Mondo"), though a few cracks show: Baraldi's voice can't match the austere, priestly gravity of Ferretti (which, admittedly, is one of a kind), and the song suffers slightly for it, as does the other gem "Del Mondo", handed instead to Zamboni's own vocals. But these are minor quibbles, because the performance keeps barrelling ahead: "Huligani dangereux" is a shot of adrenaline for the crowd at the front, by now dancing wildly below the stage; Baraldi outdoes herself with a breathtaking "Io sto bene", followed by an extremely dark "Trafitto", putting the spotlight back on "Affinità-divergenze", the Cccp masterpiece.

Then, to warm applause, Nada takes the stage. And it's instantly a spine-tingling performance, opening with the spoken-word "La mia patria attuale", a piece composed by Zamboni for the soundtrack of Daniele Vicari's film "Il mio paese" (2006). "Deeply relevant words, still very timely," Nada remarks, thanking the guitarist with whom she's shared an intense artistic partnership for years, one that has produced records and numerous live shows. The Tuscan singer's second act is "Miccia prende fuoco", from Zamboni's solo debut ("Sorella sconfitta", 2004): a chant that unwinds magically through Nada's low register, the infectious reggae crescendo of the rhythm, and lyrics with that unmistakable "Ferretti touch" (“Miccia prende fuoco per la gola e straccia un cuore che/non conta niente ormai… Lingua scuoia cuce rade trema la discarica/ cupa rossa lava di emozioni include un cuore che/ non conta niente ormai”). But what truly elevates Nada's set is above all the irresistible "Luna in piena", the song she presented at Sanremo in 2007 alongside Cristina Donà and one that remains criminally underrated: with Zamboni & co. backing it, it becomes even more powerful and compelling.

The tender "Annarella" arrives to ease the pace, before a blistering final run. More historic anthems from the Emilian punksters return: "Spara Jurij" (referring to Yuri Vladimirovich Andropov, who on 1 September 1983 ordered the shooting down of the off-course Korean Air Flight KAL-007) and the stunning closing pair: the psychotic "Curami", quite possibly the closest anything ever written on Italian soil has come to the neuroses of Pil, and the Arabic-tinged "Punk Islam", its hypnotic chant masterfully rendered by Baraldi, complete with its controversial verse ("Allah is great, Gaddafi is his prophet") in which the late leader's name is swapped out for "nobody".

It's the final triumph, the crowd applauds, the emotion of that great epic has truly been stirred back to life, even though of course this is a different project and any comparison would be unfair as well as misplaced. The ovation for Zamboni and Baraldi is joined by one for Fatur. And he, not content with a hilarious repertoire of poses and gags, steps up to the microphone as if to say thanks... but says nothing and shuffles off awkwardly. Just as it should be.

Special mention, finally, for the festival as a whole: a fine story of volunteering and social commitment that has grown over time. At the start it was just a spontaneous happening, born in 2007 to protest the conversion of the Torre Valdaliga power plant to coal, which then gradually expanded until it became one of the most significant music events in Italy (even earning recognition from Mei as best festival in 2011): eleven nights this year, with a packed lineup (among others, Andrea Ra, Paolo Belli, Caparezza, Mario Biondi and the aforementioned Ruggiero). And all at minimal cost to local residents. An example of how culture and politics can come together intelligently, providing a valuable service to the public.

The photos were kindly provided by Etruria Eco Festival and are, respectively, by:

Alice Di Girolamo (home)

Sarah Penge (Baraldi, opening)

Luca Pisciotta (Zamboni)

Giorgia Fiorini (Baraldi within the text, Nada and Fatur)

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