L 'last night I am awakened by a noise is a pigeon that knocks insistently at the window. I get up and just open it, the bird, looking very serious, he pulls out a pencil from behind his ear, it gives me a form to sign, deliver a telegram and went away without even saying goodbye. - No I've never seen a pigeon holding pen behind the ear-, is the cat who had followed the whole scene.
- And I've never seen cats that talk - I responded with a rude tone, annoyed by that telegram in the middle of the night.
- The tattered has sent some of those who frequent - the cat replied acid - Sure. Like the fact that pigeons do not have ears.
Next Number on Music And Fear To Stop F. Squinternat. Rainbow , was written on telegram. The cat looked at me with a look of pity and recovered a ronfare. -Paura… ma cosa c’entra mai con la musica? - ha detto all’improvviso una voce che veniva da una poltrona al buio in fondo alla stanza. Mi si è ghiacciato il sangue nelle vene. A casa non c’era nessuno e le poltrone, notoriamente, non parlano da sole.
- Ma scusi, signora poltrona, com’è che tutto a un tratto si è messa a parlare? – sono riuscito a balbettare, mentre il cuore mi batteva a mille.
- Piacere di conoscerla, spero che indovinerà il mio nome - ha risposto l’ombra sulla poltrona, sporgendosi verso di me. Nell’oscurità a malapena riuscivo to see it.
- And she makes us here, how come? Who is it?
- Allow me to introduce myself, I am a rich man and taste.
Now, I had understood one thing: If you dine late, there is no need to exaggerate the pie lasagna, eggplant caponata, the sweet and sour peppers, cassata, the raisins and the nero d'Avola. The cat called me aside: "Look at the guy you're parroting the words of Sympathy for the Devil, a song by the Rolling Stones. You do not yet noticed? ". Good thing the cats speak, I thought - and that know-Rolling, added lei.Confortato these musical references, are then returned to the office.
- Lord, assuming that she is a hallucination brought on by the psychedelic effects of eggplant caponata, I would like to take this unexpectedly his presence to ask for clarification with respect to its first claim, namely that where she excludes any possible relationship between music and fear - I said to type. When I left the caponata on the stomach, talking me out ahead.
- See, my friend, unlike those tattered Rainbow she is so determined to attend, I do not believe that music can be scary.
- Apart from the one of Toto Cotugno - I added, always in the mood for jokes. The shadow did turn around and continued:
- By all accounts, if there is a place where the devil is at home, apart from the TV commercial, including owners of villas, this is precisely music. Always. From Dionysus to Throbbing Gristle. Passing by Marilyn Manson and all groups that pull in dance serial killers, zombies, demons and antichrists.
- those bands that seem to be made by guardians of cemeteries, in short - I have interfered with the usual silly joke.
Pussy while she woke up, obviously interested in the conversation.
- To support this thesis also brings up the blues: the music of the devil, as it was called - has taken him. - It was said that the legendary Robert Johnson had learned to play guitar by the devil himself at night, in cemeteries. Nothing is true, if you let me say that I know something. In short, the list would be long to do. And perhaps unnecessary. Why is not this the music is scary. But that, as sometimes happens with art and culture can become a flag of freedom, a threat to anyone in charge.
- These last thing escapes me, sir. Could you give me an example? - The man gave a sigh, took on the tone of voice when you said something stupid at home and, with great patience, he began:
- For example, music can become so dangerous that the Chilean general, during the coup of 1973, tortured, killed in gun shots and smashed his hands to Victor Jara, guilty of having made songs against the dictatorship.
- Anyone order is automatically hazardous , said Anselme - added cat.
- who Anselme, the lead singer of Pantera? - I asked, now completely in the flask.
- What is called Phil Anselmo. The heavy metal has nothing to do - he replied sour pussy, looking at me wrong.
- You are right her cat, my friend. Anselme Bellegarrigue was a man who, among other things, said: Where no one obeys, no one commands - said the shadow.
- I realized: it was an individualist, as all the singers. Like -. It was clear that I did not understand anything. The cat sighed.
- But, sir, Excuse: I do not yet responded. She, who?
Suddenly, an explosion shook the windows. The shadow was gone. That remained in the air a smell of sulfur, mixed with the sweet and sour peppers. After a while, 'the cat broke the silence: "If the music is scary, then it is equally true that there is scary music."
- Apart from the one of Toto Cotugno - I've insisted.
- Who is afraid of those who listen to the music wrong, that does not sing in chorus - the cat has continued, raising his head from the book that was flipping through. A sort of etiquette to the Treaty on the use of new generations, written by a Belgian vampire, that Vaneigem. Mine is a cat who reads books about manners.
- Enough with the fear - she did, closing the book.
Then I took the first album of Black Sabbath and I put on the stereo. Silence. The spiral begins to turn the label, hypnotic. A cemetery abandoned, rain, tolling a death knell. A flash of breaking the darkness, followed by a terrible thunder: Tommy's guitar enters Jommi. Ozzy is, hidden behind a tomb. He gets up, opens his eyes, out of his mouth still half a head of a bat and starts singing with a voice like a madman, "Who is this that stands before me, dressed in black that I tip my eyes ....". Guys, after indigestion of lasagna pie, like the old Sabbath there is none.
- only that they are good for Halloween, not for an article on Fear and Music. Enough with the hard rock museum. Please add this - I said the cat, giving me "Fear of Music" a Talking Heads album thirty years ago, so old as to be perfectly fashionable. See Franz Ferdinand, so to speak.
- But in the end, the one who was he? - I asked.
- What, you have not yet figured out? You left the TV on and you fell asleep during the news Retequattro - did kitten.
- Emilio Fede?
-I'm afraid so.
(published in "The Rainbow" No.2 Year III - Oct. Novembre2009. Monograph on fear)
