• Rating:
Tokyo night, Tokyo dream...
I tackle a work that I have always considered with affection for years because it satisfies various needs of mine on the mystifying level, a complete work therefore starting from the primary element, which is the musical one. It's no coincidence that Hiroshi Sato, Yusuke Hoguchi, just to name a few, are top-notch musicians, and Mussolini's singing is a positive surprise for all of us.
But the nicest thing is that there is no attempt on my part to ridicule it, nor to mock it as a kitsch work, nor to use the grandiose past of her ancestors to prejudice (and I'm not ashamed to say it) this excellent artistic product.
In 1982 Alessandra is twenty years old and is a healthy girl full of health and sound principles, she tells her way of facing life, her dreams, her goals. She knows that fun is an end in itself and a prelude to achievement. She knows that sex without feelings is a surrogate for love and doesn't waste time; she wants the truest and therefore the strongest thing: she doesn't give it to anyone! But she shows us the way to perhaps aspire, through an initiatory path, to be worthy of kissing those wonderful feet. With the danger that the boomerang of her pleasure could make us raise our arm (this time the arm) like a situation of Kubrickian memory, making us exclaim, “YOUR GRANDPA TO US!”
This description might make you smile, but if I were you, I wouldn’t relax; Mussolini might be able to transform our ascetic attitude into an armpit-focused one because the question will arise spontaneously: will she have shaved armpits or not? We all root for the latter... So don't act fussy and surrender to a healthy breath of fresh joy! Just for those feet, she should immediately be elevated to a fetish icon.
I reiterate that this work, a fragrant and humid pink nook, is well done; there is temptation but no perversion. I thank the mind that conceived a situation like this, that had the inspiration to assemble an artwork of that scope, singing in three languages, masterfully played by seasoned professionals, printed only in Japan, a grandiose name for better or worse; it's all so perfect.
From “Carta vincente”, the second track of the album: “That commanding way of yours, here nobody says no, it's your winning card, I don't give the winning one. Body, soul plus mind only then will I fly, this is a winning card, but not yet for you.
Well done Alessandra!
Loading comments slowly
