Litfiba

And yet I had never been to a Litfiba concert. It seems odd, since few bands have been as important in my life as a music fan (well, maybe only Iron Maiden – and, looking back, I couldn't even say for sure which of the two mattered more). In my head, every single word, note, vocal tic and melody of all their songs, at least up to and including "Spirito", is burned in forever. I even realise how much Piero Pelù's lyrics shaped my values and my ethics – setting aside all the naïve notions I've since shed while growing up.
But I had never been to one of their shows. As a kid I never got the chance, and later on I snubbed them out of sheer ingratitude, basically. In truth, even back in the days of duds like "Infinito", or after last decade's reunion, this has always been a band that brings the house down on stage.
What's more, I've always loudly claimed that celebratory anniversary tours are for the terminally nostalgic. Well, when I heard about the fortieth-anniversary tour for "17 Re" with Maroccolo and Aiazzi back in the line-up, I came to terms with being just as nostalgic myself. It helped that, as I approach 50, I've come to see consistency as a burden that keeps me from enjoying whatever scraps of pleasure I have left. Nostalgic and happy all the same, because Tuesday night in Padua was a marvel.

Photo Dave

I can't even remember the last time I went to a concert where I sang along at the top of my lungs, together with the rest of the crowd, to every single song (maybe the last time was Paul Di'Anno at the Fontigo beer festival). All this while watching a Pelù in dazzling form behind the mic, and on stage the usual all-consuming beast – in the sense that there isn't a single space he doesn't fill; it's hard to find another performer in Italy on his level.
The setlist, as you can imagine, follows closely, for the whole first part, the sixteen songs that make up "17 Re", plus the recent title track (I don't buy for a second that the song was actually written back then, though it's still the best thing to come out under the Litfiba name in over a quarter of a century). "17 Re", to these ears, is the greatest and most important Italian record of all time, and the band, despite their age, manage to bring those songs to life on stage with a ferocity you wouldn't expect from people well past their sixties. Renzulli's guitar is pure pyromaniac passion, Aiazzi makes his keyboard shine as he probably hasn't since the end of the "trilogia del potere", and Maroccolo's bass oozes iconic status with every note. Special mention also goes to Luca Martelli's excellent work behind the "donkey skins", stepping in for the late Ringo de Palma.

Photo Dave

Between songs, the explanations (sometimes unsolicited, but that's fine... we love him anyway) from Piero Pelù, who can be accused of many things (a dreadful solo career, first and foremost) but never a lack of consistency.
And, after 17 songs, an encore lasting almost an hour, with a setlist that gave me chills, starting with "Il vento" (a song I've always found unbearably on-the-nose, and yet there I was on Tuesday, screaming every single word), building up through "Istanbul", "Santiago", "La preda", "Eroe nel vento", all the way to the apotheosis of closers "Tex" and "Cangaceiro", by which point I genuinely had no breath or fluids left in my body. I'd never been to a Litfiba concert before. I'd missed out on something, and now I've found it again.

Photo by Luca Dalla Pria

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