Gentlemen & Assassins in Ancona Italy Oct 23 2011
Bar Del Porto Oct 23 2011 Ancona Italy
The gig was booked in a hurry. Six days before we played as a matter of fact. Booked by avid fans of Dresden Dolls and Nervous Cabaret. As we pulled into town that evening we were struck by the beauty of the old port, the fortress like quality and the ancient dense narrow streets.
Flavia greeted us with an enthusiasm that balanced out an understandable apprehension about the venue, which was a sidewalk that the band would be blocking. It was slightly damp and a bit chilly; Cats, stray dogs and Sunday night mass goers busily hurried past us as we were setting up. My voice was shredded from the lack of monitors the night before and here again the tech situation was not ideal…but the pasta came out, then the nibbles and bits to tide us over and a generously pored Grog “Perla tuo vocce” as the bar tender kindly observed my condition promptly remedied. The locals, after patiently allowing the band to indulge, tucked in themselves expertly assessing the goods and approving with pleased smiles and nods. This is a working mans town, similar to a Genova or Rotterdam or Dubrovnik or many port towns around the world. African, Indians, Men from across the Adriatic, Neapolitans, Romans, locals. I was beginning to like this place.
Our host Michele, an actor in the local theater and a drummer for the band Drama Emperor, arrived and hooked up the speakers and monitors. The crowd started assembling, warming the atmosphere with chatter and by the time we hit the decks they had surrounded us. Smiles and quizzical looks all around as Sxip started sound checking his Bells; nudges, winks and grins as I crooned out a hoarse melody and general amazement as Brian paradiddled into a thick groove . Everybody knew this was going to be good.
It turned out to be the best most relaxed and exciting gig so far. A lovely appreciative crowd who swarmed us after the show with questions, anecdotes, praise, jokes, signing requests, photo gatherings and general gaiety. I must say in all honesty, though my repetition of this sentiment might get a little…well…sentimental: I live for moments such as these. At the bar a shot of Amarosiblia, a local bitter sweet liqueur, was handed to me and I toasted the room: all drinks to the ceiling and a chorus of “Salute!”
Before we knew it we were back in the van on a dusty country trail off to Michele’s country house were we would melt local bacon in a thick pan, fry onions, boil pasta, chew on home grown peppers and raw, complexly flavored tomatoes and cork Primitivo wine.
Next stop, a favorite, Morena’s Clandestino in Faenza.
