Siamo su Zenith, la stella caduta nel cuore della metropoli di Lutetia (oggi conosciuta come Parigi). Pianeta Terra. Questo spazio sembrerebbe una gigante nave rovesciata ma, causa la mancanza di aria condizionata nel mese (dis)umano di luglio, Zenith sembrerebbe piuttosto un'ascella cosmica composta da un qualche migliaio di bulbi a due zampe che si muovono in modo disordinato. Questo spazio sembra infatti avere un suo peculiare odore, che verrà spazzato via solo un'ora dopo con l'avvento sul palco degli Atoms For Peace, portatori sani di delicati aromi sonori provenienti da ogni dove.
Intanto,
mi posiziono alla fine di in una lunghissima coda che ha, al capo
opposto, un
carretto bianco che vende una rinfrescante bevanda dal colore ambrato. Ma per ben due volte (lo giuro), trovandomi faccia a faccia con la sudata signorina che spilla la magica pozione, mi viene detto che essa è appena terminata. Corro dunque verso il bancone verde di una nota marca della suddetta pozione, e con un francese zoppicante cerco di spiegare l'accaduto all'enorme umano che mi trovo di fronte chiedendogli, italicamente, di poter saltare la fila. Autorizzazione negata. Dunque, alla fine dell'ennesima coda, mi allontanavo con tre bicchieroni da 50 di gelida birra (tutti per me) per raggiungere mia moglie. Ella mi attendeva, bella e impaziente come sempre, seduta, dopo che ero riuscito a convincerla che non ci fosse assolutamente nulla di male a posizionarsi aldilà di un nastro a strisce diagonali rosse e bianche su cui era appeso un foglio riportante la scritta “lasciare i posti liberi per chi ne ha più bisogno di voi”.
carretto bianco che vende una rinfrescante bevanda dal colore ambrato. Ma per ben due volte (lo giuro), trovandomi faccia a faccia con la sudata signorina che spilla la magica pozione, mi viene detto che essa è appena terminata. Corro dunque verso il bancone verde di una nota marca della suddetta pozione, e con un francese zoppicante cerco di spiegare l'accaduto all'enorme umano che mi trovo di fronte chiedendogli, italicamente, di poter saltare la fila. Autorizzazione negata. Dunque, alla fine dell'ennesima coda, mi allontanavo con tre bicchieroni da 50 di gelida birra (tutti per me) per raggiungere mia moglie. Ella mi attendeva, bella e impaziente come sempre, seduta, dopo che ero riuscito a convincerla che non ci fosse assolutamente nulla di male a posizionarsi aldilà di un nastro a strisce diagonali rosse e bianche su cui era appeso un foglio riportante la scritta “lasciare i posti liberi per chi ne ha più bisogno di voi”.
Ma
ecco, cari lettori, che a salvarvi da questa mia ridondante filippica
sono i protagonisti stessi di questa storia, gli Atoms For Peace,
ovvero il supergruppo composto dal leader dei Radiohead, Thom
Yorke, da Flea (il Keith Richard dei Red Hot Chili Peppers...non
tanto per lo strumento che imbraccia, in questo caso il basso, quanto
invece per il ruolo di vero e proprio “co-frontman”), Nigel
Goldrich (mago del suono e "sesto membro di fatto" dei
Radiohead), Mauro Refosco (forse il più grande percussionista
in circolazione. E si sente! Nonché percussion man di fiducia di
David Byrne, Brian Eno e Red Hot Chili Peppers...tanto
per intenderci) e Joey Waronker (già alla batteria con Beck e
R.E.M). Ad aprire lo show è subito “Default”, uno dei
brani più apprezzati dal pubblico ed emblema sonoro di questo
progetto.
Il
suono è ora padrone di Zenith. La folla è parte di un momento
epocale, e lo sa. La formazione in questione, infatti, è alla prima
data del suo primo attesissimo tour, ed ha senza dubbio, per i
barbuti presenti, (e non) la sua importanza. L'esecuzione dei brani
(inclusi quelli tratti dal primo album solista di Yorke “The
Eraser”) è perfetta ed è chiaro che i cinque sappiano di che
pasta è fatta la musica. Refosco e Goldrich sono uno di fronte
all'altro, su delle pedane rialzate, come portatori del verbo
analogico (il primo) e di quello digitale (il secondo). Il tutto si
mescola con naturalezza mentre Thom si dimena più del solito come in
preda a convulsioni di sonora metafisicità e Flea picchia le corde
del suo basso mentre passa da una parte all'altra del palco senza
fermarsi un solo secondo. Citazioni sceniche che sembrano combinare
quella danza epilettica che nel corpo di Ian Curtis divenne
emblema visivo della scena post-punk ed il famoso “passo
dell'anatra” inscenato da uno dei padri supremi del rock n'Roll, il
signor Chuck Berry. Quello degli Atoms è infatti uno
spettacolo molto fisico ed umano anche se le sonorità sono spesso
aliene e capaci di risucchiarci nel loro cono di luce per portarci
nei luoghi e nelle ere musicali più disparate (futuro incluso).
La
musica è, in tutto e per tutto, avvolgente e fa dimenticare al
pubblico che si tratti del side project di Thom Yorke e dei suoi
Radiohead. Sebbene la storia, in questo caso, non sia così semplice.
Solitamente
infatti, quando il frontman di una band sente la necessità di avere
un side project a latere della propria band, si tende a
pensare che lo faccia perchè il gruppo in questione non ha raggiunto
il successo sperato (chiaramente non è questo il caso) oppure,
semplicemente, poichè ha intenzione di seguire le proprie idee senza
dover troppo compromettere con gli altri membri della band. Nel caso
di Thom Yorke e degli Atoms for Peace, il discorso è ben diverso. E
di questo ci si rende conto immediatamente assistendo ad una loro
performance dal vivo. Infatti, la sensazione è che con gli Atoms, il
nostro Thom si metta molto più in gioco che con la sua band di
origine. Forse perchè dai suoi Radiohead, essendo la band che
più ha cambiato il rock dell'ultimo ventennio, i fans si aspettano
in ogni nuovo album di trovare una versione aggiornata di Kid A;
o forse perchè il peso di aver cambiato la musica già una volta non
dà più la stessa libertà di creare e mettersi gioco alla
formazione di Oxford...non saprei. Ma poco importa, in fondo, se il
risultato dei loro album rimane sempre di livelli quasi insperabili
per il 99% di chi fa musica...
La
scaletta dello show è stata generosissima considerato l'unico album
ufficiale sotto questo nome (invito i più puntigliosi ad andare a
vedere la scaletta precisa sul sito X o altrove essi vogliano
soddisfare le loro più intime esigenze).
Alla
fine dello show (e di numerose birre), raggiungiamo il backstage, su
tre piani balconati e di un colore rosso intenso dove, qualche minuto
dopo, si presentano quattro dei cinque atomi. Trattengo a malapena il
mio groupismo, trovandomi a meno di un metro da Mr. Yorke e
sebbene avessi una copia in vinile del singolo Default su cui
speravo di avere qualche firma, mi limito a ringraziarlo per il gran
bello spettacolo e torno al generosissimo rinfresco. Una decina di
minuti e svariati drink più tardi, vedo il californianissimo Flea
(l'unico a non essere apparso a fare socialità tra i numerosi amici
accorsi e, tra controparentesi, più in forma di un rocker ventenne)
andarsene via in costume da bagno. Goffamente mi affaccio e lo saluto
con il palmo della mano inverosimilmente spalancato. Lui mi guarda
pensando, probabilmente, che le cinque dita sventolanti, così
disinvoltamente fuori posto, debbano appartenere ad una faccia a lui
amica, poi evidentemente si accorge del contrario ma educatamente
sorride e si allontana. Così anche io faccio finta di nulla e torno
al bar.
(ENG) We are on Zenith, the star fallen right in the heart of the city of Lutetia (now known as Paris). Planet Earth. This space seems to be a giant upturned ship but, because the lack of air conditioning in the (dis)human month of July, Zenith seems rather a cosmic armpit composed of a few thousand bulbs with two legs and moving in a disorderly manner. This space seems to have a peculiar smell, which will be wiped out, approximately an hour later, with the advent on stage of Atoms For Peace, healthy carriers of delicate sonic aromas that may very well derive from anywhere in the globe (or further away).
Meanwhile, I take a place at the end of a long tail which, at the opposite end, has a cart selling a refreshing and white-amber-colored drink. But for two times in a row (I swear), finding myself face to face with the sweaty young lady serving the magic potion, I am told that it just finished. So I run to the green neon-full counter of a famous brand of this potion and, in my approximate French, I try to explain to the enormous human facing me what just happened and asking him, in a traditionally Italic fashion, to be able to jump the queue. Permission denied. Therefore, at the end of the umpteenth line, I walked away with three big 50 glasses of cold beer (all for me) to join my wife. She was waiting for me, beautiful and impatient as always, sitting, after I had managed to convince her that there was absolutely nothing wrong in positioning herself beyond a red ribbon with white diagonal stripes on which hung a sheet bearing the inscription "leave these places free for those who need them more than you do. "
But it's at this point, dear readers, that, to save you from my redundant talk are the protagonists of this story themselves, the Atoms For Peace, which is the band formed by the leader of Radiohead, Thom Yorke, Flea (the Keith Richards of the Red Hot Chili Peppers ... not so much for the instrument he embraces, in this case a bass, but rather for the role of true "co-frontman" of the band), Nigel Goldrich (sound magician and Radiohead's "sixth member de facto"), Mauro Refosco (possibly the greatest percussionist around. And you can feel that right away, in his subtly delicate but fundamental contribution to the band's sound! ...he's David Byrne, Brian Eno and The Red Hot Chili Peppers' man when it comes to persussions) and Joey Waronker (formerly Beck's and REM's drummer). The show opens with "Default", one of the most appreciated tracks by the public and true sonic emblem of this project.
The sound is now master in Zenith. The crowd is part of an epochal moment, and everyone knows it. The "gig" in question, in fact, is the first date of their first long-awaited tour, and the bearded present ones are aware of its importance. The performance of the songs (including those taken from Yorke's first solo album "The Eraser") is perfect and it is clear that the five know what music is made of. Refosco and Goldrich are facing each other, on two raised platforms, such as carriers of the analog verb (the first), and of the digital one (the second). It all blends together naturally, while Thom squirms more than usual as if he felt victim to metaphysical sound convulsions, and Flea is striking the strings of his bass while he moves from one side to the other of the stage. Without stopping for a single second. Scenic quotes that seem to combine that epileptic dance that, in the body of Ian Curtis became a visual emblem of the post-punk scene, and the famous "duck step" staged by one of the supreme fathers of rock n'Roll, Mr. Chuck Berry. That of Atoms is indeed a very physical and "human" show, even if the sounds are often like aliens able to suck us in their cone of light to lead us in the most unthinkable places and in many different musical eras (including the future).
The music is, in all respects, enveloping and it makes the audience forget that it is the "side project" of Thom Yorke and his Radiohead. Although the story, in this case, is not so simple.
Usually, in fact, when the frontman of a band feels the urge to have a side project in the margins of his band, we tend to think that he does it because the group in question has not reached the expected success (clearly this is not the case) or simply because he's wants to follow his own ideas without having to compromise too much with the other members of the band. In Thom Yorke's case as well as in that of Atoms for Peace, the situation is quite different. And everyone realize that immediately as they see their live performance. In fact, the feeling is that with Atoms, our dear Thom puts himself a lot more at stake than with his original band. Perhaps because his Radiohead, being the band that most changed the history of rock of the last twenty years, the fans have come to expect in every new album to find an updated version of Kid A, or perhaps because the burden they feel for having changed music once already, no longer gives them the same freedom to create something different from what expected ...I am not really sure. But it doesn't matter, I guess, if after all the result of their albums is always of unthinkable levels for almost 99% of those who make music...
The setlist of the show was very generous considered the only one official album under this name (I invite the most fastidious of you to go and see the precise setlist on website "X" or elsewhere if they wish to satisfy such deep needs of theirs).
At the end of the show (and after many beers), we reach the backstage, on three deep-red-colored floors, where, a few minutes later, you have four of the five atoms. Barely managing to hold back my groupism, finding myself at less than one meter from Mr. Yorke and although I had a vinyl copy of the single Default on which I was hoping to have some signatures, I just thanked him for the great show and I went back to the generous refreshments. Ten minutes and a variety of drinks later, I see the iper-californian Flea (the only one not to have appeared to make sociability...and more in shape than any rocker in his twenties) leaving in his surfer's bathing suit. Awkwardly, I look out and greet him with the palm of my hand wide open. He looks at me thinking, probably, that the five fingers fluttering, so effortlessly out of place, should belong to a face he should be friend with, but obviously realizes it's not the case, and politely smiled at me before walking away. So even I pretended nothing had just happened and went back to the bar.
(ENG) We are on Zenith, the star fallen right in the heart of the city of Lutetia (now known as Paris). Planet Earth. This space seems to be a giant upturned ship but, because the lack of air conditioning in the (dis)human month of July, Zenith seems rather a cosmic armpit composed of a few thousand bulbs with two legs and moving in a disorderly manner. This space seems to have a peculiar smell, which will be wiped out, approximately an hour later, with the advent on stage of Atoms For Peace, healthy carriers of delicate sonic aromas that may very well derive from anywhere in the globe (or further away).
Meanwhile, I take a place at the end of a long tail which, at the opposite end, has a cart selling a refreshing and white-amber-colored drink. But for two times in a row (I swear), finding myself face to face with the sweaty young lady serving the magic potion, I am told that it just finished. So I run to the green neon-full counter of a famous brand of this potion and, in my approximate French, I try to explain to the enormous human facing me what just happened and asking him, in a traditionally Italic fashion, to be able to jump the queue. Permission denied. Therefore, at the end of the umpteenth line, I walked away with three big 50 glasses of cold beer (all for me) to join my wife. She was waiting for me, beautiful and impatient as always, sitting, after I had managed to convince her that there was absolutely nothing wrong in positioning herself beyond a red ribbon with white diagonal stripes on which hung a sheet bearing the inscription "leave these places free for those who need them more than you do. "
But it's at this point, dear readers, that, to save you from my redundant talk are the protagonists of this story themselves, the Atoms For Peace, which is the band formed by the leader of Radiohead, Thom Yorke, Flea (the Keith Richards of the Red Hot Chili Peppers ... not so much for the instrument he embraces, in this case a bass, but rather for the role of true "co-frontman" of the band), Nigel Goldrich (sound magician and Radiohead's "sixth member de facto"), Mauro Refosco (possibly the greatest percussionist around. And you can feel that right away, in his subtly delicate but fundamental contribution to the band's sound! ...he's David Byrne, Brian Eno and The Red Hot Chili Peppers' man when it comes to persussions) and Joey Waronker (formerly Beck's and REM's drummer). The show opens with "Default", one of the most appreciated tracks by the public and true sonic emblem of this project.
The sound is now master in Zenith. The crowd is part of an epochal moment, and everyone knows it. The "gig" in question, in fact, is the first date of their first long-awaited tour, and the bearded present ones are aware of its importance. The performance of the songs (including those taken from Yorke's first solo album "The Eraser") is perfect and it is clear that the five know what music is made of. Refosco and Goldrich are facing each other, on two raised platforms, such as carriers of the analog verb (the first), and of the digital one (the second). It all blends together naturally, while Thom squirms more than usual as if he felt victim to metaphysical sound convulsions, and Flea is striking the strings of his bass while he moves from one side to the other of the stage. Without stopping for a single second. Scenic quotes that seem to combine that epileptic dance that, in the body of Ian Curtis became a visual emblem of the post-punk scene, and the famous "duck step" staged by one of the supreme fathers of rock n'Roll, Mr. Chuck Berry. That of Atoms is indeed a very physical and "human" show, even if the sounds are often like aliens able to suck us in their cone of light to lead us in the most unthinkable places and in many different musical eras (including the future).
The music is, in all respects, enveloping and it makes the audience forget that it is the "side project" of Thom Yorke and his Radiohead. Although the story, in this case, is not so simple.
Usually, in fact, when the frontman of a band feels the urge to have a side project in the margins of his band, we tend to think that he does it because the group in question has not reached the expected success (clearly this is not the case) or simply because he's wants to follow his own ideas without having to compromise too much with the other members of the band. In Thom Yorke's case as well as in that of Atoms for Peace, the situation is quite different. And everyone realize that immediately as they see their live performance. In fact, the feeling is that with Atoms, our dear Thom puts himself a lot more at stake than with his original band. Perhaps because his Radiohead, being the band that most changed the history of rock of the last twenty years, the fans have come to expect in every new album to find an updated version of Kid A, or perhaps because the burden they feel for having changed music once already, no longer gives them the same freedom to create something different from what expected ...I am not really sure. But it doesn't matter, I guess, if after all the result of their albums is always of unthinkable levels for almost 99% of those who make music...
The setlist of the show was very generous considered the only one official album under this name (I invite the most fastidious of you to go and see the precise setlist on website "X" or elsewhere if they wish to satisfy such deep needs of theirs).
At the end of the show (and after many beers), we reach the backstage, on three deep-red-colored floors, where, a few minutes later, you have four of the five atoms. Barely managing to hold back my groupism, finding myself at less than one meter from Mr. Yorke and although I had a vinyl copy of the single Default on which I was hoping to have some signatures, I just thanked him for the great show and I went back to the generous refreshments. Ten minutes and a variety of drinks later, I see the iper-californian Flea (the only one not to have appeared to make sociability...and more in shape than any rocker in his twenties) leaving in his surfer's bathing suit. Awkwardly, I look out and greet him with the palm of my hand wide open. He looks at me thinking, probably, that the five fingers fluttering, so effortlessly out of place, should belong to a face he should be friend with, but obviously realizes it's not the case, and politely smiled at me before walking away. So even I pretended nothing had just happened and went back to the bar.
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