Surf Riot In Caserta

You gotta wear a lot of hats when your touring

Friday, June 29


The drive to Caserta is only supposed to take an hour and a half, but as soon as we get on the road the traffic is moving slower than the bronze tortoises on the statues. It's Sts. Peter and Paul day in Rome so most businesses are closed and it seems like everyone is leaving town for holiday. It takes us a full hour just to get to the edge of the city. At one point the heat gauge in the van is well into the red, and we expect the worst, for the radiator to blow. Lorenzo has to turn off the AC to reduce stress on the van, and we are sweltering in the little box. Luckily traffic lightens a bit, the needle moves from the danger zone, and we can put the AC back on.

We arrive at the home of Massiliamo and Igli Crispi. Massi is Amerigo's brother, and one of the guitarists in The Bradipos IV. They live in a building that was built in 1879, it's the style with a wide carriage entrance behind heavy wood doors, leaving a defensible area in case of home invasion, which is to say, the traditional architecture. Their apartment is on the top two floors, with a deck on the roof. Igli has designed much of the impressive tile work, and the home is decorated beautifully, a mix of Igli's taste for modern and balinese art and Massi's dedication to rock'n'roll.

We head up to the roof to stretch and lounge. Massi explains that someone in Igli's extended family makes grappa, and even though it's afternoon, he pulls out an unlabeled clear glass jug. As I have mentioned before, I have no taste for, but sniff it to be polite. Yes, it is rocket fuel. Then, out comes the bottle of delicious red wine, that was similar to a young cab and made by his friend, of which Massi pours a giant, bulbous glass and passes around for all to sample. Massi points out the sites– the palace with its 5km of public gardens, on the hill are the remains of old Caserta which date back to medieval times. Next door to his house is a former women's prison that once interned Sophia Loren for tax evasion. I ask if the marble quarries are still working and he says that the ones around the city have all closed because the dust causes lung cancer.

The club, Caffe del Centro, is in the middle of a block, the road in front a mere 25 ft wide. It should be pedestrian only, but cars are somehow parked on both sides, leaving an even skinner path for driving. The room we set up in is better suited for a two acoustic guitar performance. We squeeze in where we can with the assumption that some people will come in to watch us play. Facing the street is a double door about five feet wide. This is an important detail.

Before sound check the club owner takes us up the street to a restaurant for pizza. Though they have a Nutella pizza on the menu we opt for the savory, nine pizzas for nine people. All had mozzarella, but on the ones that had the mozzarella de buffalo, the cheese was not melted. They ran the gamut, from a DOC pizza, which was simply mozzarella and tomato sauce, to a Caprese, with mozzarella de buffalo, crudo (thinly sliced ham) and basil, to a Light, with bresaola, arugula and mozzarella, and finally the Diavolo, with spicy sausage, tomato sauce and, of course, mozzarella.

Meshugga runs through a few songs, Mel working on the tone for his new custom made Mosrite clone. No time for Frankie to warm up so we jump right into our set. People are curiously sticking their heads in the door to see where all the noise is coming from, but there is no room for them, so with my long chord like a tail, I walk to the door and look out to see a crowd gathering. Danny and Tony pop there heads out when possible, but are set up too far back to move forward.

For the TomorrowMen's set, Danny moves his effects rig into the doorway, so he can stay outside the whole time. And for Meshugga, Mel and Danny both squeeze into the portal. Unfortunately, the rest of the band behind them goes unseen, but the view from the street side is amazing. By the time Danny and Mel start their routines, there are several hundred people packing the narrow road out side the club. A dense ring of fans stands mere inches away from the front men, mimicking their dance moves and chanting and yelling "Hey!" at every break. The crowd must split like the Red Sea to allow the occasional passing of a car. I can't believe the road has not been closed off to traffic, it wouldn't take very much for an aggravated driver to take out dozens of people.

And what might get someone agitated? Perhaps the heat? At midnight its still near 100 degrees. The thick walls all around us have been soaking in the sun all day and are now radiating like a non-stop furnace.

Meshugga absolutely kills, the crowd loves them. Despite Mel's mild protestations about having to go on last every night, it's clear that they are the headliner. What a show!

After a long load out– Lorenzo has to navigate the van down the crowded street, and the GPS in Steve's car can't figure out the mouse maze that is Caserta's map. The boys move to their penzione and Massimiliano directs the van back to his house. Karen and I share a single pull out bed, and with the heat, we have to try not to touch each other or our skin will melt like paraffin.

Sorry for a lack of photos, I didn't take my iPad to the gig last night.