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HIM LIVE - THE CRIMSON AT SUMMER FESTIVALS
JULY 18, 2008: GURTEN FESTIVAL, BERNA
The weather forecast predicted rain and cold in Switzerland during the second half of July : naturally, dressed with jeans, t-shirt , waterproof coat and, why not , sweatshirt, a green and sunny plateau shows itself to us when we arrive , with the cable railway, to the Gurten festival, at eleven and a half in the morning.
We immediately take position in the front row and the day passes listening the other bands and trying to take refuge as much as possible from a merciless sun , who never lets up, despite we provide to buy some tanks and hats , rub sun cream and so on …but in the days after some of us will have their businnes to mitigate the burns.
Like this , when Paolo Nutini’s band stops playing and the air becomes cooler , we can finally breathe a sigh of relief; HIM roadies’ arrival on the stage and the settings of all choreography , helps us to drown now in the right atmosphere.
The other girls and I have the occasion to greet and wave towards Sean, the drum roadie who nicely interacts with us and doesn’t avoid some reply when he’s busy with the soundcheck.
Then , at forty- five past nine, when the tension reaches its peak, the intro starts and, once again, the guys are there, in front of us . My heart begins to throb madly , on the notes of “Passion’s killing floor”: it doesn’t seem real four months already passed since that mythical march 8th in Nonantola, and here I am again in front of them.
The guys are excited : after “Passion’s Killing Floor” is the turn of RHIMA, then Wings Of a Butterfly , BABL, Wicked Game, Join me, very popular songs but always played with a pluck and the will of amuse themselves and to entertain the audience.
Ville interacts with the crowd and throws a beach ball towards the barrier , it hits a girl in the fourth row ; but probably he doesn’t understand the exact direction the ball has taken and apologizes towards the front row, looking at Monni who is in front him and sends back his look in the most perfect stockfish style .
After this playful episode , the gig continues with a wonderful “Sleepwalking Past Hope”, that leaves space to Linde’s guitar , with “Poison Girl” and “Killing Loliness” ; but on “Soul on Fire” , the crowd on the right of the stage begins to push toward the first row. Probably someone wants to force to approach the front row and this causes a mess , probably it is also someone too much drunk or is enjoying themselves in the art of disturbing , and so some whistle and some unpleasant remark is thrown to the stage . Ville’s sights are obviously turned in that direction , as well the ones of the security guys , who acts , lightly indeed, to shoot the attempts of disturbing in which is involved Ilaria , who suffers the brawl with nudges and something else; probably the situation falls on “The Funeral of Hearts” , masterfully performed, but on this song the push starts again and still some whistle is thrown towards the stage . The last song is “Rebel Yell” : I was looking forward so long to hear it live performed , and of course I would have enjoyed it more if there would have been a more respectful behave by the crowd.
And on the last notes of the outro ,Linde’s farewell is the thrown of his Gibson guitar on the line of the camera dolly; the broken handle of that guitar is almost the break of something sacred for my eyes, but probably attitudes like what that we have seen , are disliked even from who, on the stage, is trying to give the best of himself.
Gurten Festival for me and for my friends ends here; we set out for the funicular railway that will take us back to the city, as many others .
In fifteen days HIM again , at Ankkarock in Helsinki, in the city that became the second house for many of us.Mrs. Lindstrom
CHRISTENING OF FIRE: MY FIRST GIG
If someone told me that, at the age of 37, I would have watch the beginning of a gig holding someone else’s arm because my legs were shaking I would have laugh. It happened instead, and I will try my best to explain why, above all to myself. I’m not an old fan, I’ve lost the beginning and the release of Razorblade Romance, and then Love Metal era (the one I’m devoted to); I’ve lost too much; this is why a gig meant so much to me, and every month waiting the Gurten Festival looked so long. Nine hours under a burning sun and the exhausting sun sound eternal but at 21.45 of the 18th of July the moment has come, my HIM baptism . My first gig. The previous voyages lose importance, the other concerts I’ve been to don’t mean nothing in front of this, what I’ve felt in that moment is printed into my mind and I will never forget it. Naively I thought that after the shock of the beginning of the show everything would have gone on as always, what an illusion! Everything, absolutely everything, started in that moment. It would have been easier if the floor would have open under my feet, when Ville stopped at 5 metres from me and said the first word. I’ve followed other bands with more or less handsome or charismatic frontmen, but valo emanates something that fills all the stage, he doesn’t need any word to leave you speechless. But please don’t believe it’s been just him the only thing that moved me, nothing farther than reality: Since I’ve known the band I’ve seen and heard so many concerts and none of them, neither the Digital Versatile Doom one has been played in that majestic way in my opinion. I felt the bass and the drums like they were into my chest playing, and I have to take my hat off in front of Linde because live he’s thousand times better than what I expected. I’m at loss of words talking about Burton, I’ve always liked him much and this time he didn’t delude me.
When I had success in staying up with my own feet I started to look around myself as I wanted to take mental pictures of every moment. My camera is shitty, I had to satisfy myself with that.
There were no big screens on stage neither special effects, there were no footboards going up and down, the stage didn’t change its shape and no one was running here and there like mad.
There just were 5 men, four playing and one smoking and singing, and anyway I didn’t have enough eyes to watch the whole show. The lights, the fog, a lamp and the songs, only songs, but it was too much the same.
Perhaps I never found the right music, the one that gives you emotions till leaving you into tears, and HIM lead me to tears. If Ville writes wonderful lyrics, the music that follows them it’s not less wonderful.
One after the other, many of the songs which give me company everyday, follow themselves like suspended in time; I haven’t been bothered by pushing or beating or something like that, I was, there, in the front row, drowned into some kind of tridimensional trip for each of the mental images I made into my mind after listening to every cd.
There have been times when I thought my lungs would stop to work, after the first song when I definitely broke the apnea world record, there have been several others, Join me with no doubt, Sleepwalking past hope, Rebel yell; listening to it in live version is another dream came true, and The funeral of hearts.
I have got to talk separately about this song.
When they played the first notes, just a sentence pops out into my mind “You are tattoed on me” , it doesn’t matter how many times I will listen to you, it doesn’t matter if I swore on the holy Bible that I wouldn’t have been able to listen to you live, damn song, I carry your name tattoed on me on the mother tongue of the one who made it to write something so special.
As I said some day before the concert, I knew it would have ended too fast, and so it’s been. And tto I know didn’t have to stay in front of Ville, but I condemned myself instead.
And after all I wrote now I know why my legs were shaking.
Against everything is said by the popular wisdom, this time reality is far better than fictionVaneitalia-Vanesa
MY ANKKAROCK
Nine hours in the front row , the fifth time in four months and five gigs; the lasts only fifteen days ago, in Berna , Gurten Festival. And everytime I say “ Not this time, Ros, this time you can watch them from far , everyone say that the music is better far from the amplifier…” , but I have to get to that front row everytime, it is like a sweet condamnation. Under a grey sky , that announces a rainy day , nine hours of waiting can appear endless, especially when, about at five in the afternoon , the crowd start to throng and it is not possible to move form your little spot without the risk of losing the position: remains just to be patient , to bite a sandwich and pretend to enjoy it , to drink a drop of water and to wait . The time passes by , the Kent performance passes also in the rain , and then finally that stage becomes THE STAGE, becomes my heart that begins to beat faster , as I would be there for the first time, even if I have to stay calm because it’s still too early. Then , at nine p.m., the lights fade, the smoke looks like wrapping everything and the music introduces me , once again as fifteen days ago, in my dream. The intro shades in “Passion’s Killing Floor” and the gig starts.
The stage is high and it’s difficult to take good pictures ; I see only Linde, Migè and Ville, occasionally Burton’s head and an arm ; I name him “the amplifier man”, while Gas remain a important musical presence , but decidedly invisible as person, at least from my point of view.
The guys look in great shape, happy to play at home and the people answers warmly and enthusiastically; Ville interacts very much with the fans , speaks in finnish and I am one of those who understand very little of what he says; also the other guys aren’t less , smiling and ready to return to greetings and applauses that the fans throw at them.
And, one after another, the successes and the songs that we loved in this years run , with the ones taken from “Venus Doom”: Join Me, Poison Girl, Sleepwalking Past Hope, Bleed Well, Funeral of Hearts, evocative and proposed again with the light effects used in the gigs of the Venus Doom Tour , Rebel Yell and a Razorblade Kiss, marked in a new version that left us nicely surprised.
The light of day gives little by little way to the night and the dark , that in finnish summer is never so absolute and complete , but creates a sole and evocative atmosphere ; and now I don’t feel neither hot nor cold, nor the tiredness of those nine hours of waiting under the stage…because they are here, once again, and because I am here, where I want to be.
And when the gig ends , in my eyes remain yet the greeting and the smile that Linde gave me from the stage answering towards mine…the most beautiful pictures are the ones that remain in the heart, and these moments are indeed included in the dearest memories; because Ankkarock will remain for me a very particular gig, although not the only one and even the last one.
The suitcases are here, close to me, clean and ready to be preserved …till next journey, till next gig , ready for other nine or ten hours in the row, standing, near the barrier or waiting to get in a club , ever whit their songs and their music in my heart, feeling nostalgic and with the wish to see them again.Mrs. Lindstrom
Planned and developed by Mrs Lindstrom with the help of Nailedtoacross, Legolas di Mirkwood,
Shikaia590 and Maia.Editor in chief: Mrs Lindstrom, Graphic Project: Dan[616]
