Three moments of your life, three songs
Mid-Eighties, small town middle class borough, bourgeois living room, on the record player a vinyl of a new american rockstar, boosters cracking, volume at the maximum level. Three kids dance in the room, jumping and screaming, one is standing on the couch, shoes and all, wielding a tennis racket as a guitar.
We learned more from a three-minute record than we ever learned in school. At the time I actually understood just “no surrender”, but for me even that was more than enough.
Early Nineties, same small town and borough, saturday night. A car parked in the driveway of some friend’s house, a cassette playing in the stereo. There’s this “rock compilation” on, one is a slow song from that american rockstar, who is singing of how sometimes life slaps you in the face and you have to face it for real, not just dreaming it away.
For my nineteen birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat. I’ll have to move shortly in the big city nearby, new work, new house, new life, and all this “new” that’s waiting for me in a way is scaring. But I still believe the future is a big dream and many possibilities.
Land of hope and dreams
Last years of the 2000 decade, a tenement in the City, studio apartment full of Ikea furniture. A hard decision to make, a real important job opportunity, an irrevocable one: if I take it, I’ll have to turn my back to some people I call friends, and there’s no coming back from that.
It’s been days of thinking and indecisive thoughts. Then from the stereo that american rockstar, the same who made me jump with my shoes on mum’s precious couch, screams that Faith will be rewarded, and suddenly everything is crystal-clear.
The things you believe in always come first, in fact, they are the only thing that matters.