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Gonzo Report: Goblin performs Demons at Little Italy’s Music Box
My time in the doom loop
Goblin gives new life to an old collaboration with horror legend Dario Argento.
“Does anyone complain about the dicks on your shirt?” I ask Keshaun, one of the bar staff at Little Italy’s Music Box. He’s sporting swaag from Dwarves, a punk band as notorious for their shock value as for their infectious melodies about trailer trash girls and creeping on everybody’s lady. Keshaun laughs, and the other bar staffers seem to notice for the first time that the skull and crossbones on their co-worker’s shirt are actually a skull and crossboners. I have a quick conversation from behind the bar about the perks of getting to see shows at the venue before ordering a giant pretzel — for research purposes. The food and conversations are bonuses; the main event is seeing Goblin performing the soundtrack to the film Demons in sync to a screening. It’s a tribute to the collaboration between the band and filmmakers almost 40 years ago. (This current touring version of the band is referred to as Claudio Simonetti’s Goblin, after the keyboardist and composer who leads the band.)
Two security guards stand by a set of stairs that lead to a balcony. As I approach them, they tell me it’s closed, so I tell them I just want to look around — I’m a journalist. One guard gives me the go-ahead and I get his name (Armando) so I can use it to get out of trouble. The sentry on the balcony is unimpressed that Armando said it was okay to be up there; he claims he’s never heard of an Armando. It’s possible I misheard the name, but also possible that someone’s lying. But why? A mystery is afoot! At the bottom of the stairs, Armando or whatever his name is has vanished. While a spectral encounter on this late October night would make for a good story, he probably just had work to do elsewhere.
The line is growing at the merch table, which is where I told KNSJ DJ Robert Egan and his companion, costume crafter Tess Mattraw, that I would spend most of my paycheck. Egan replied he would be spending his on booze, and has so far made better on his vow than I have on mine. My sole purchase is a T-shirt out of “dead stock” swag from previous tours, because the current tour stash is sold out. The huge Goblin and logo on the front of the shirt is what I’m after, not the tour dates on the back.
The band takes the stage to cheers for a set that will later feature a rocking performance of horror themes that includes music from The Exorcist and Halloween, along with Simonetti’s compositions from Dawn of the Dead (most prominently heard in the movie’s European cut). But the show opens with the flawless screening synchronization to the original Demons soundtrack, one of several commissioned by their frequent filmmaker-collaborator Dario Argento. While the original was mostly electronic-based, in concert it has been rearranged by Simonetti to be more powerful, and the goal is not just met, it’s shattered, with a metallic edge that gives the film new life.
As usual, my focus is on the bass player. This evening, her name is Cecilia Nappo. She looks as if she could have stepped right off the set of Demons — or any other Dario Argento movie — as both villain and victim — but it’s her hands that have my undivided attention. The digits on her right seem to barely move while firing out both rapid fire notes and single accents, while her left moves like it’s made of water. It’s so smooth and fast. The players are seated, with Simonetti the only one standing, and he’s tethered to his keyboard. Nappo and guitarist Daniele Amador remain sitting, but look ready to leap up at any moment and begin rocking out. Drummer Federico Maragoni spends a good portion of the set jumping to strike something with emphasis, exposing his Rush T-shirt when he does so.
Though it jars me from the Demons film a little, Goblin’s surprise inclusion of Iron Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” fits seamlessly. I think of the woman in line who told me she thought that Demons was just a dream after seeing it at a young age, fighting sleep on the couch with her father until movie and dream combined in her memory. Now I’m in a de facto Little Italy theater, watching a film about theatergoers who are watching a horror film that is manifesting in the aisles. It’s akin to the Dr. Hasslein explanation of time loops in Escape From the Planet of the Apes, and the unlikely possibility that tonight we are all doomed by demons doesn’t seem unpleasant to me.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Goblin performs Demons at Little Italy’s Music Box
My time in the doom loop
Gonzo Report: Goblin performs Demons at Little Italy’s Music Box
My time in the doom loop
Goblin gives new life to an old collaboration with horror legend Dario Argento.
“Does anyone complain about the dicks on your shirt?” I ask Keshaun, one of the bar staff at Little Italy’s Music Box. He’s sporting swaag from Dwarves, a punk band as notorious for their shock value as for their infectious melodies about trailer trash girls and creeping on everybody’s lady. Keshaun laughs, and the other bar staffers seem to notice for the first time that the skull and crossbones on their co-worker’s shirt are actually a skull and crossboners. I have a quick conversation from behind the bar about the perks of getting to see shows at the venue before ordering a giant pretzel — for research purposes. The food and conversations are bonuses; the main event is seeing Goblin performing the soundtrack to the film Demons in sync to a screening. It’s a tribute to the collaboration between the band and filmmakers almost 40 years ago. (This current touring version of the band is referred to as Claudio Simonetti’s Goblin, after the keyboardist and composer who leads the band.)
Two security guards stand by a set of stairs that lead to a balcony. As I approach them, they tell me it’s closed, so I tell them I just want to look around — I’m a journalist. One guard gives me the go-ahead and I get his name (Armando) so I can use it to get out of trouble. The sentry on the balcony is unimpressed that Armando said it was okay to be up there; he claims he’s never heard of an Armando. It’s possible I misheard the name, but also possible that someone’s lying. But why? A mystery is afoot! At the bottom of the stairs, Armando or whatever his name is has vanished. While a spectral encounter on this late October night would make for a good story, he probably just had work to do elsewhere.
The line is growing at the merch table, which is where I told KNSJ DJ Robert Egan and his companion, costume crafter Tess Mattraw, that I would spend most of my paycheck. Egan replied he would be spending his on booze, and has so far made better on his vow than I have on mine. My sole purchase is a T-shirt out of “dead stock” swag from previous tours, because the current tour stash is sold out. The huge Goblin and logo on the front of the shirt is what I’m after, not the tour dates on the back.
The band takes the stage to cheers for a set that will later feature a rocking performance of horror themes that includes music from The Exorcist and Halloween, along with Simonetti’s compositions from Dawn of the Dead (most prominently heard in the movie’s European cut). But the show opens with the flawless screening synchronization to the original Demons soundtrack, one of several commissioned by their frequent filmmaker-collaborator Dario Argento. While the original was mostly electronic-based, in concert it has been rearranged by Simonetti to be more powerful, and the goal is not just met, it’s shattered, with a metallic edge that gives the film new life.
As usual, my focus is on the bass player. This evening, her name is Cecilia Nappo. She looks as if she could have stepped right off the set of Demons — or any other Dario Argento movie — as both villain and victim — but it’s her hands that have my undivided attention. The digits on her right seem to barely move while firing out both rapid fire notes and single accents, while her left moves like it’s made of water. It’s so smooth and fast. The players are seated, with Simonetti the only one standing, and he’s tethered to his keyboard. Nappo and guitarist Daniele Amador remain sitting, but look ready to leap up at any moment and begin rocking out. Drummer Federico Maragoni spends a good portion of the set jumping to strike something with emphasis, exposing his Rush T-shirt when he does so.
Though it jars me from the Demons film a little, Goblin’s surprise inclusion of Iron Maiden’s “Flash of the Blade” fits seamlessly. I think of the woman in line who told me she thought that Demons was just a dream after seeing it at a young age, fighting sleep on the couch with her father until movie and dream combined in her memory. Now I’m in a de facto Little Italy theater, watching a film about theatergoers who are watching a horror film that is manifesting in the aisles. It’s akin to the Dr. Hasslein explanation of time loops in Escape From the Planet of the Apes, and the unlikely possibility that tonight we are all doomed by demons doesn’t seem unpleasant to me.
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