Grasshopper

I admire Björk's optimism, but since it's often said that the mother of fools is always pregnant, I'm more inclined to believe that there are more than a few around Debaser, even if I have no proof. This, among other things, is a certified fool, complete with a blue sticker, unlike the "big bastard"... Who knows, anyway, the result is that we've gone from Tchaikovsky's music to dealing with this trash. Tiny is right: better to ignore it. There's a chance he might be reading these comments and, even if he understands one word out of fifty, he might be happy that someone is talking about him...

P.S. For your enjoyment, I am attaching the comments made so far by our hero.
The DeRecensions that FACCHIOSCHIFO deemed appropriate to comment on while authenticating himself are as follows:
Grasshopper burino still does useless music reviews because it's old, think about new things, you peasant, and you'll see that you'll be a bit less frustrated than you are now. Bye peasant.
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 4/4/2007 | 21:45
Piotr Ilyitch Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 5 Op. 64 by Grasshopper
Grasshopper, as usual, acts like a peasant and shoots off judgments at random, if you like Gaber, you are just a failure, clear?
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 4/4/2007 | 21:42
Giorgio Gaber: Polli di Allevamento by hulloder
The usual useless review of shit music by that peasant Grasshopper.
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 4/4/2007 | 21:39
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Piano Concertos K 466 and K 482 by Grasshopper
IT'S USELESS TO CHANGE YOUR PHOTO; IF YOU'RE UGLY, THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO. YOU'RE TOO UGLY, BUT WHO THE HELL WOULD WANT YOU? THOSE 2 IN THE PHOTO ARE BETTER, BUT THEY WON'T EVEN GIVE IT TO YOU DEAD. SHIT FAKE.
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 2/4/2007 | 18:43
Federico Angelucci: Amore E Mistero by Birbabirba
YOU KEPT YOUR EYES CROOKED ON PURPOSE, BUT YOUR FACE IS REALLY DUMB. I SUGGEST PLASTIC SURGERY. IT WORKED FOR ME: NOW I'M MORE HANDSOME THAN BEFORE EVEN IF I STILL LOOK LIKE SHIT. AND MY NAME IS FACCHIOSCHIFO. READ, IGNORANT BISIUS. AND WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE FOOLING? YOU'RE THE BIRBA BIRBA FAKE; EVERYONE KNOWS IT.
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 2/4/2007 | 18:24
Federico Angelucci: Amore E Mistero by Birbabirba
BUT WHO IS THIS GUY? AH, IT'S GABER, THEN ONE POINT ON TRUST. IT'S MORTALLY BORING, LIKE PUNISHER WHEN HE TAKES A DUMP.
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 2/4/2007 | 18:17
Giorgio Gaber: Polli di Allevamento by hulloder
BISIUS, I SAW YOUR PHOTO AND YOU'RE REALLY SHIT. WHAT KIND OF FACE DO YOU HAVE? YOU'RE A DUMBASS, BISIUS. GET SOME PLASTIC SURGERY.
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 2/4/2007 | 18:16
Federico Angelucci: Amore E Mistero by Birbabirba
davejongilmour is a shit fake.
FACCHIOSCHIFO | 6/3/2007 | 21:44
I'm From Barcelona: Live at Blæst (Trondheim 23.2.2007) by SurferKangaroo

Tiny, there’s no reason: it’s like someone dirtying a freshly painted wall or throwing stones from an overpass. We're at that level of pure stupidity, 100%, likely coupled with a healthy dose of frustration for not understanding a thing about music. Debaser isn’t out of this world, and despite the filters, like the "test of belonging to the human race," idiots still manage to infiltrate here too. Fortunately, as you rightly say, generally they get bored sooner or later and get the hell out: the "big bastard" did it, and sooner or later "Faccioschifo" will too.

I don't know if it's a fava di fuca, but the effect it has is still of that kind. We should ask him what kind of fava it is, and it would be nice if he participated in the discussion, but he has exhausted his two neurons in that masterpiece of a post he left, and now he needs to recover from the effort, poor thing!

Know-it-all, is yours an encouragement ("Grass, get your balls out!") or a comment (Grass, get your balls out!) on my gentle post where I compared, perhaps too generously, our dear idiot to a bean wrapped in a condom?

There are cases where the name (or nickname, as you prefer) speaks for itself. "Faccioschifo" is one of the most striking examples, alongside the one who signed as "bastardone," fortunately vanished. What can we say? Even idiocy has its own crystalline perfection, and this one truly possesses a purity akin to that of a diamond. Well done, Faccioschifo, keep it up and congratulations on your sincerity. Please, never change your nickname: the one you have fits you perfectly, just like a condom over a penis head (oops... pardon the slightly crude comparison).

I'm afraid that in my case, it would take much more than the willing Father Pio. The seasoned "sorcina" in question doesn’t budge from her Renatone, except for the occasional foray into Celtic music. The most I’ve managed to achieve is convincing her that in that genre, there’s not just Enya, but also the less known (but definitely more authentic) Loreena McKennitt, and then there are also the Clannad and those charming old-timers called the Chieftains, who, however, are so little photogenic in her eyes... I've lost many hopes of planting seeds in hard ground when I heard her claim that “after all, Gianni Morandi isn’t that bad.” Dear Mariaelena, take comfort in knowing that this one not only doesn’t know Lou Reed but hasn’t even heard of Bob Dylan, or at most has only caught his name in passing...

Here's an album I've known for just a few days and that doesn’t want to leave my player. Yes, objectively and from a strictly jazz perspective, you're right to give it one star less: the redundant orchestration leans more towards the world of crooners than pure jazz. However, that wounded, cracked, and piercing voice (I quote from the review three adjectives, one more apt than the other) covers any potential "technical" flaws.

It may be an epidermal sensation, but when I hear it "sing," I think of the family business, its panforti, panpepati, ricciarelli, cavallucci, and Cecco's cakes, and I imagine the national Gianna in the most fitting place for her loud and garish scream: at a stall in a Sienese market, selling the aforementioned delicacies. However, I then realize that on the radio, you can also hear worse, just as in markets, there are voices more in tune than hers.

Granted that a CD can be consumed, ever since this one came into my hands a few days ago, I have been doing so, with particular focus on the first track ("O infante"). I was enchanted by it and I had a strong desire to review it, but as is my habit, I checked if the idea had already occurred to someone else (I am among the few who still do this, on a site where some albums may have 14 reviews). And I was right to do so, because it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to be more convincing. 5 and 5, both exceeding.