Article by Umberto Scaramozzino
Every time a journalist has to report on a concert, the temptation to use the phrase “collective ritual” is always too strong. And there are many who fall for it, far too many, to the point of having made the very idea of thinking about those two malevolently magnetic words repellent. In the case of Nick Cavehowever, is not a hyperbole, but not even a metaphor. The paradigm is overturned and the term “concert” becomes the lexical alternative, even overtaken by “liturgy”, which is equally abused. But it is undoubtedly like this: there is a difference between what happens in front of his stage and what happens with any other artist substantial differencewhich resides inintensity and in the sacredness that permeates every moment lived.
TO Lido di Camaiorefor day 1 of the second weekend of the festival The First SummerNick Cave doesn't even get to the end of the first verse of the first verse of “Get Ready for Love” and is already on the catwalk looking for contact with his people. The hands that raise towards the elegant figure with raven hair and icy eyes increase, second after second, expanding like wildfire. The public experiences in symbiosis what anthropologists call “collective effervescence” — if anything more original than the ritual. A wonderful concept that tries to explain the magic of a group of people united by the exact same thought or the same emotion. Individual sensations begin to bounce from one person to another, infecting everyone and amplifying.
Nick Cave spends more time in contact with fans than in front of the microphone stand or his piano, walking the catwalk tirelessly and without any hint of fatigue. On stage there is another almost unmissable show, with the band in a sensational state of grace, driven by the usual Warren Ellis who, despite trying to stay out of the way, sometimes even manages to distract from his frontman. Not that other musicians deserve less attention, given that every member of Bad Seeds he doesn't save himself and puts together yet another very high intensity performance. Choosing what to watch would be almost impossible, but thanks to the Australian singer's extraordinary catalyst skills there is often not even the possibility of choice.
On the touching “O Children”, perhaps even those walking along the seafront of Lido di Camaiore, unaware of the magic taking place among the trees of the BussolaDomani Park, must have turned their heads in the direction of Nick Cave. He grabs the hand of a child in the barrier, lifts him carefully, sings to him, until the latter with extreme sweetness lets himself go into an embrace that moves the entire festival. And even in this case the emotional transfer is immediate, confirming a context that we could define unrepeatableexcept that with Nick Cave this miracle seems to repeat itself at every opportunity.
On the eve of the Tuscan evening, the only Italian date of this tour, the fear hovered that King Ink and associates might be forced to cut their very long setlist to remain in the headlining slot of the festival. For this reason at the stroke of midnight, after a quick introduction of the band (with particular emphasis on Colin GreenwoodRadiohead bassist) while the solemnity of the dark macabre toll introduces “Red Right Hand”, there are those who think they are one step away from leaving. But no: ours they continue, they overflow, they spread in a setlist of twenty-one songs that is among the longest of the entire tour. It closes with “Into My Arms”, with Nick Cave left alone on stage for the grand finale.
Recently, speaking about the work in progress for the new album with the Bad Seeds, Nick Cave spoke of his need to stop, to go back to doing his things in relative silence, «with attention to my surroundings, and free from the incessant opinions of others, for the good of the soul». A silence that also becomes necessary for those who attended the concert, to rediscover their individuality and let all the sensations experienced in two and a half hours of music settle. It becomes necessary to realize the gift of this artist, who never spares himself, but above all never gives, not even for a second, the impression that it is a script or ordinary administration. Because there is nothing ordinary here.
Daniel D`Amico for SANREMO.FM
