The Wild Sesh opened wide the hell’s door and devils appeared. Near-tropical rain kept the service blocked until 5:00 p.m., then the sun broke out, the bowl dried out, and the session took off. Indro Martinenghi, Andrea Calgaro, Tommy Cova and Paolo Fenino were the bowlriders who best interpreted Wildbowl’s lines. After numerous attempts Indro landed a giant frontside corner ollie over the love seat (NBD).
At sunset we were carried away by the post rock psychedelic notes of Kung Fu Beuca: suburban space mazurkas, guitars floating on bass strings, drum chaos looking up at the stars.
With nightfall came the turn of Empty Stomach, an injection of pure energy, a band characterized by a sound somewhere between Hardcore and Stoner that they themselves call “Punk Stoner”. Their lyrics range as much as their sound, moving from social criticism, denunciations against Italian journalism and the political, to the externalization of passions and moods as happens in the song “Need To Skate” and “Burnout.” In the best skatecore tradition we slaughtered each other in the pogo.
Goddamn‘s show is not easy to describe. Ferrania (SV) is an industrial archaeological site. Here abandoned factories create a backdrop worthy of Mad Max. These guys snuck inside the factory searching for metal parts and production scraps needed for their show. They set up a kind of altar with all that iron, then amplified the drills, cutters and hoses, combining everything with the musical instruments which gave life to a witches sabbath. Noise, screaming, lots of noise. Someone called them iron-noise, but it is hard to explain in words what they do.
A hike with our mycologists and the laughing gas leak were pretty exciting; skateboarders certainly know how to whip a party into a frenzy.
Around 4 a.m. Dalida Spunton did not want to close her DJ set, and the Cantina dei Frati continued to refill beer glasses. The skate party was epic thanks in part to the support of Dickies Europe who sent us stuff to swap with artistic collaborations, skaters, tattoo artists, DJs, musicians, photographers and filmers. No fucking cops, no accidents, a lot of fun, everything went well.
Words by Giovanni Matteo Emiliani
Photos by Lorenzo Scarpellini
Frontside ollie in the corner over the loveseat
