From New York City, MC Unsteady Freddie is introducing the festival's opening band, Les Chefs from Dunkirk, France. They are a trio, fairly subdued, but tearing their way threw mostly covers and a few originals. They have a wacky stage manner, but it's not an act, these guys are hysterical, but more on that later. Early on, the crowd is fairly sparse, but that's just an illusion. The stage is set in huge open area and I notice that while there about 100 people in front of the stage, there are another 100 sitting on the railing by the sea, another 100 at the diner, and many more roaming around the shoreline walk. It's only 9pm, which is very early in Italian time.
At 10pm, the crescent moon has just about sunk into the sea, taking her lover Venus along, and Los Venturas take the stage. It's clear that they are no longer adhering to the Ventures style sound of their early albums. Their "uniform" is 70's style polyester shirts in geometric patterns of pastel, tucked into grey slacks with a wide belt. They look like swingers from a HiKarate ad, and their new sound reflects it. They did a few surf standards, but of the covers I recognized, Tommy Roe's "Dizzy" and the theme from Lawrence of Arabia we're particularly brilliant. All the TMen were at the front of the stage, and getting a little worried about following them. I so look forward the Los Venturas' show at the Forbidden Island in August, and for those going to the SG101 convention, you are in for a treat!
They finished punctually at 10:45 (thanks to ace stage management by sound man Gulio and stage manager Tommy- who is also a member on Lorenzo's Buckaroo Banzai band). The TMen got all set up and tuned, then disappeared from the stage. In a tent backstage, we quickly changed into our new costumes. Are they ridiculous? You could say that, but why do something half assed when you can make be a total ass? What can you say about black and silver mylar space suits that were designed for teenage raves at burning man? As drummer, Tony is allowed to wear only the vest and shorts, but Steve, Danny and I have matching pants and black long sleeve shirts. To top my costume off, I'm wearing a child's mylar space helmet, which adds another 18" to my height. We got a great reception as we came on stage, but now we would have to deliver.
How did we do? I think we played well, and the energy was tremendous, we could play as loud as we wanted, and the stage gave us plenty of room to move around. I tried as hard as I could to work the crowd and get them involved. My guess is there were more than 200 directly in front of the stage, and another 200 in the shadows and at the Tiki bar next to the Diner. After an encore, and dripping with sweat, we left the stage at midnight.
In the small backstage tent, Les Chefs- Pierre (who prefers to be know as "25"), Bebe and Thomas were hanging out, and quite talkative. They had found some illegal substance and were rolling what rastas would call a spliff, a mix of tobacco and hash. While Thomas was telling me their story, which included the fact that all of their Grandfathers had once been prisoners of war, their day jobs, the birthdates of their sisters, and a treatise on the right wing government of France (clearly they identify more as Belgians than French). During an excited exchange, Thomas (pronounced Toma) dropped his rock, and most unfortunately, the floor of the tent was nothing but tiny multi-colored stones. Les Chefs scoured the ground searching by the light of the refrigerator, picking up every pebble for intense inspection, generally followed by an excited "yessss" followed by a grunt and a deep depressed exhale. This went on for at least 25 minutes before they admitted defeat, which was just as well because Les Chefs were well cooked at this point.
The Tonomats had started the surf jam on the stage inside the Diner, which was now wall to wall packed. I found Karen and we stayed mostly outside, saying hello to a few people, including our old pal from Belgium and SG101, Wannes Rombouts. We left at 1:15, though the party was clearly going to go on until early in the morning. We thought we might find a taxi, but hoofed it back to the hotel and were in bed by 2, a very long day.
Saturday morning began as a repeat of yesterday, an American style breakfast and rehearsal for Frankie. After practice, Tony and I went back to the Duke for a nap while Karen and Danny went back to the diner to rehearse with Meshugga. After a brief zonk out, I went looking for a panini and walked toward the sea. The Gran Duc is just across from the massive Livorno sea port, where huge cruise liners and smaller ferries are parked, all eventually headed for all Mediterranean destinations.
In front of our hotel is a monument from 1596 to its namesake, Naval Captain Ferdinando de Medic (yes, those Medicis, the Grand Dukes and protectorates of Florence and all of Tuscany). The well dressed Captain saved free trade in Livorno with his victory over Moorish pirates, who he captured and enslaved. It's pretty brutal, the naked Moors chained to the pink marble and bound at the wrists. Mr. Medici looks pretty happy though, but, I'm not judging.
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