My fabulous trip to Lisbon started in Milan, not exactly my favorite city in Europe, but a perfect location for a Gogol Bordello concert, as it turned out later on. Having seen Gogol perform in Bucharest and in Warsaw and being madly in love with them, I thought I was prepared for another night spent in the front rows. But I had no idea what was coming to me.
Italians are insane, no doubt about it. It took them about 15 seconds to get in the mood for punk rock parranda and after the first two songs half of the audience was shirtless and I was shoeless. And the one thing you don't want to try is barefoot pogo. Turns out I should have taken other things into account when putting my outfit together. Sure, it was colorful and gypsy and looked great, but next time I'm so not wearing slingbacks. If I ever decide to see Gogol in Italy, which is highly possible, I think I might have to wear military boots. Luckily, I was rescued just in time by a very nice Italian and recovered my shoe as well, and the whole thing could have been quite sweet if it hadn't been hilarious and idiotic before anything else. The fact that Eugene was screaming something about revolutions and his dick didn't help either, but once I reached a safer spot the night went on without any noticeable incidents.
Another thing I love about their concerts is that you're never alone, even if you are alone, that's why I'm not even slightly worried about not having someone with me to join the fun. Once again, Italians proved to be more friendly than the average, loud and joyful and inexhaustible, sharing drinks, joints, chocolate and chewing gum with anybody who happened to be around.
And as I can't seem to get enough of Gogol Bordello, I'm planning to see them in the UK and in Germany, not just for their wonderful and energizing music, but also because I'm really curious about their audience, wondering if it can get any better than in Italy.
In the morning, tired and bruised and happy as can be, I was on my way to Lisbon, where an epiphany was waiting round the corner.
1 comment:
The consummate writer - 'where an epiphany was waiting around the corner'... can't wait!
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