Fontaines D.C.

The Fontaines D.C. return, a year on, to shake up Rome's summer, in the sprawling spaces of the Ippodromo delle Capannelle. Last year we caught them at the Cavea of the Auditorium Parco della Musica with a show that coincided with the release of their highly anticipated "Romance". A change of setting that isn't just geographical but symbolic too, moving from the almost theatrical confines of a cavea to the open, dispersive vastness of an outdoor arena, with all the challenges and suggestions that come with it. In a curious game of crossed paths, it's the Cccp who will be moving in the opposite direction, bringing soon their collective ritual to the more intimate setting of the Cavea.

Opening for the Dubliners are Shame, by now anything but an up-and-coming band. Charlie Steen's stage presence and the incendiary rhymes of "Food For Worms", combined with the brutal energy of the performance, immediately set the bar high for Fontaines, who however start out with a more restrained approach. It's not that the crowd's warmth is lacking, exploding from the very first notes with the unusual choice of opening with "Here's The Thing", followed by signature tracks like "Jackie Down The Line", "Televised Mind" and the inevitable "Roman Holiday", greeted with particular enthusiasm by the Roman crowd. But it's the band's posture that initially betrays a certain stiffness: Grian Chatten, the group's frontman and emotional catalyst, seems less invasive than usual for the first part of the show, as if he were letting the stage space breathe rather than dominating it with his usual feverish gait.

Yet, as the setlist progresses, the band loosens up, rediscovering that blend of tension and cohesion that has made Fontaines D.C. one of the few contemporary rock bands able to win over a broad audience without losing an ounce of their alternative edge.

Static but solid as a granite block, the musicians stay focused on their respective instrumental parts, leaving Chatten in charge of animating the stage. He does so with his classic dazed gait, recalling a lopsided Mark E. Smith and the brazen attitude à-la Liam Gallagher, especially when he plants himself center stage with his arms crossed behind his back. But, fortunately, unlike the Oasis frontman, Chatten doesn't stay still: he interacts, pushes forward, enjoys hamming it up with the crowd, carrying the show along with that loose-limbed yet controlled theatricality that has by now become his recognizable trademark.

"Romance" is performed almost in its entirety: all eleven tracks that make it up, alongside about ten songs drawn from the band's earlier catalogue, with "Skinty Fia" occupying a central role in the setlist. The staging is minimal but suited to the vastness of the stage: at the center looms the large heart taken from the cover of their latest album, while the big screens deliver sharp close-ups of the band. Chatten, for his part, often moves closer to the crowd, but doesn't linger much between songs, leaving space instead for the music.

With the lightning-fast urban poetry of "Big" and the melancholic rock of "Favourite", the main part of the show comes to a close. But it's in the encores that Fontaines D.C. come back with force, stringing together five songs that push the show toward a crescendo finale.

It starts again with the intricate synth weave of "Romance", moves through the cinematic, streaked openings of "Desire" and arrives at the choral, anthemic dimension of "In A Modern World". The grand finale comes with "I Love You" and "Starburster", an incendiary one-two punch that definitively sets the arena ablaze. This is also where the evening's most openly political moment takes shape: while last year it was Irish flags that dominated, this time attention shifts to Gaza. Chatten takes the mic to call for a free Palestine, while the screens urge the crowd to use their voice against the ongoing genocide. A gesture that confirms the band's civic-minded nature, never bent toward mere entertainment for its own sake.

The finale, scorching and compelling, leaves the crowd still charged up, almost reluctant to let go of that collective energy. A light breeze finally cuts through the evening's lingering mugginess, and for a moment it almost seems like everything could go on. But the lights come back on, and all that's left is to wait for next time, perhaps with new songs to keep us company.

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