Premiata Forneria Marconi and a Bouquet of Unforgettable Prog Rock Gems in the Heart of Friuli (2017)
Location: San Daniele del Friuli / Piazza Vittorio Emanuele / Italy
Date: Friday, 06/23/2017
San Daniele Del Friuli is the prosciutto capital of Friuli. On Friday, June 23, 2017, the town once again threw its big annual day devoted to celebrating this treat, which Slovenes know very well too, though they’re not losing any sleep over it, since they know full well that the real prosciutto, of course, comes from the Slovenian Karst. Anyway, a trip to this town is definitely worthwhile even from a purely opportunistic angle, because its old quarter sits on a hill. It’s ringed by town walls, and there’s a castle complex inside too. So even if you end up there by accident, there’s plenty to see. This time, though, it was a Friday, and since this June was pretty dismal on the gig front, the news I only got midway through that same day was all the more welcome: the big veterans of the Italian symphonic and progressive rock scene were playing there. That’s Premiata Forneria Marconi, or PFM for short, of course. It’s also worth mentioning that this Friday was one of the hottest June days this year, in terms of daytime scorching heat and muggy, sultry air.
One of the central acts of the giant wave of progressive rock that flourished, as a distinct branch of its own, on Italian soil throughout the seventies is still going. Alongside a handful of its contemporaries, like Le Orme (who play nearby Lignano on August 3, 2017), New Trolls, and the remnants of Goblin, Premiata Forneria Marconi take to the stage in 2017 as a septet. Of the original founding members, drummer and vocalist Franz Di Cioccio is of course still on board; he formed PFM in 1970 from the ashes of the earlier band I Quelli. In 1974 bassist Patrick Djivas joined, and he keeps Cioccio company in today’s PFM too. His brilliance is well known to Ramazzotti as well, who picked Djivas for the backing band on one of his past world tours. On lead guitar, after the retirement of the striking Franco Mussida, the outstanding virtuoso Marco Sfogli came aboard, while the violin (and the occasional keyboard) is still handled by an old friend of the band, Lucio Fabbri. Fabbri played with PFM from the late seventies to the second half of the eighties, then rejoined in 2002. The new PFM sometimes show up with as many as three keyboardists (counting Fabbri’s occasional services). The two permanent keyboard slots are held by two younger musicians, Alessandro Scaglione (also Moog, Hammond, electric piano) and additional keyboardist, guitarist and lead vocalist Alberto Bravin. And so that Di Cioccio can cut loose as much as he likes during a show and move easily from the drum seat to the front-man spot, PFM have also brought in an extra drummer and percussionist, Roberto Gualdi. So the stage had two drum kits and a nearly impenetrable sea of keyboards of every description.
The venue on Piazza Vittorio Emanuele was packed to the rafters. The stage was squeezed into a corner of the square, and a crowd of some 500 people had crammed in front of it, creating a “plug,” since a river of passers-by kept surging in from behind and pushing from the left and then the right against everyone who wanted to listen to the show. Add to that the unbearable heat, boosted even more by the powerful stage lighting and, of course, all those bodies that were (whether they liked it or not) “squeezed” together in front of the stage.
Still, these not exactly lovely conditions for enjoying live music didn’t dent the otherwise excellent, first-class show PFM delivered. Over a long and sprawling set that ran past a good two hours of pure playing (not counting the longer chatter between songs from the exuberant, “sharp-tongued” Franz), they played most of the material from the early part of their career, and that was essential for anyone looking for technical complexity, brilliant tightness, and the ability to sink into the bosom of a mystical atmosphere, topped off with a pinch of ever-playful, sparkling playing woven in a Mediterranean setting and seasoned with a bagful of superb improvisational spots. Those held a special place in the set too. So we got to enjoy extended violin escapades, dazzling electric guitar solo outbursts, and a doubled-up drum stint from Di Cioccio and Gualdi.
PFM delighted the crowd, which was dominated, naturally, by those born from 1955 on down into the forties, by playing a string of tracks from their classic albums. They paid particular attention to the album “Photos of Ghosts” (1973), whose title track rang out already in the opening stretch of the show, followed later by Promenade The Puzzle and Mr. 9 Till 5. From “L’isola di niente” (1974), PFM opened with the superbly mystical La luna nuova, then loaded the set heavily with material from the studio debut “Storia di un minuto” (1972), playing both parts of Dove… quando…, which morphed into (the quietly expected) La Carrozza Di Hans, followed by Impressioni Di Settembre. From the second studio album “Per un amico” (1972), PFM played just one song (Il banchetto), and with Paper Charms they didn’t skip the album “Chocolate Kings” (1975) either.
The band treated themselves to a moment of full-on classical indulgence when they put their own spin on an insert of Prokofiev’s music for the ballet Romeo and Juliet. In the second half of the show PFM also bowed to the late Italian singer-songwriter Fabrizio De André with two of his pieces. PFM and De André did a lot of work together on stage in the past, hence the live albums “Fabrizio De André e PFM – In concerto” (1979) and “In concerto – Volume 2” (1980). Oh, and the band didn’t skip the cheeky Maestro della voce (“Suonare suonare”, 1980) either, and closed the show, as expected, furiously and thunderously with Celebration (from the album “Photos of Ghost”, 1973).
Throughout the show the band built a passionate sound that buckled under spilled-over emotion, and at moments PFM conjured up a truly orchestral sound and acted like a proper symphony orchestra, which is no surprise when you add up all the sonic blankets that the triple keyboards, joining in on and off, helped weave.
In short, it was a superbly seasoned show in every respect, delivered with incredible doctrine, heritage, great knowledge, routine and experience. And above it all reigned an extraordinary feel for everything the musicians took on. The charismatic chief Franz Di Cioccio and crew remain great perfectionists in their musical craft, leaving nothing to chance. He approaches everything he does with a hundred percent commitment and focus. That evening they put on an unforgettable show, woven from an incredible carousel of songs from the golden era of their venerable career. PFM remain a band that, through all these long years of defying trends and despite having racked up a solid forty-seven years, haven’t aged an inch, either in their hearts or on stage. That’s why catching one of their shows remains a highly recommended move for anyone who loves to listen to musical perfectionism, the kind that fuses compositional complexity and musicality into a unique yet incredibly likable conglomerate. And for true prog-rock gourmets, seeing PFM live in 2017 is really a special kind of ritual and a matter of conscience.
author: Aleš Podbrežnik
photos: Aleš Podbrežnik
