Alessandro Ducoli
Lolita's Malts

Ducoli had mentioned his intention to revisit the tapes of the old "Lolita," the album that marked his debut on CD in 1996. What he hadn’t announced was that his intention was to reinterpret the tracks of that beautiful album, originally very jazzy, with an electronic twist, something somewhat unexpected from someone like him.

It's indeed a bit peculiar to imagine Alessandro Ducoli amidst a techno raver studio recording these tracks, but the result that emerges is certainly interesting and fascinating, since in the new version the songs lose not an ounce of their meaning or allure, and in certain cases, they even gain, as in "Benny Jag Blue", where the reggae rhythm is accentuated and highlighted, which, moreover, is not present only here.

Among my favorites are surely "Luna ubriaca", with a filtered voice and a hypnotic rhythm, "Nuda e cruda", and "Sapore nero", which personally remind me of Tom Waits in his most experimental and insane moments.

Each song is then accompanied by a detailed description of the type of whiskey suitable for listening each time.

For those who might be discouraged by such an unexpected listening experience, fear not: there is always the old "Lolita," named "Middle Cut,” as it is the bottling that comes from the still (i.e., the original). Instead, the "1st release" (which would be "Lolita's malts") is the first distillation after 11 years of aging.

I'm not a whiskey connoisseur, but a bottle aged 11 years should be just right, shouldn't it? So, cheers!

P.S.: Each song is also accompanied by a story written by Alessandro Ducoli himself. I don't think Sandro would mind if I "post" one.

 Cupid is a Madman 

Carnival. The biggest party in the world. The same at every latitude. Different in Venice. The masks return home at midnight! Until a minute before, the city is overrun by people insisting that fun is the only joy in the world. The minute after, the streets empty. As if everyone were dressed as Cinderella.

Only two places remained open in the whole city. Besides, obviously, the brothel of Campo Santa Margherita. Forget the institutional parades of aged Colobines and Casanovas with one foot in the grave. Santa Margherita is the Carnival of flowers! Even Hemingway would join the post-midnight despairing after realizing that under his beloved lions something else is celebrated that's no longer Carnival. I've done the same. Obviously, not because I think I'm like Ernesto, but because I don't know Venice and its traditions. I'm ignorant, insensitive, nondescript, distracted, and unqualified. Besides, I was suffering from the most classic of youthful diseases. An allergy to institutions, including the institutional Venetian carnival. The only thing I knew about Venice was that the "shade" of the bell tower kept the wine cool in summer. "The rest I'll learn over time."

I was dressed as the Dude. Tailor-made. I watched with great passion the effects Carnival has on those who want to be first. They arrive late. They can't keep up with the pace. The party destroys you if you let your beliefs dictate the pace. In the square, there was a mask in the shape of the ace of diamonds. Observing the chaos with the same Dude style. Those who observe things the same way as you are often made for you. You just have to understand if they think St. Mark's Square is better emptied of all the distracted people and especially if they accept the invitation to wander through this city looking for the ghosts that survived midnight. A long journey filled with corners full of dangers and welcoming shadows. Lean against the walls and exchange something. Arrive at St. Mark's and share the dawn with other specters. The square now is exactly what I imagined. Venice.