Grasshopper

Exaggerated... the death of De Gregori! That didn't even happen today. Rather, a slow and dignified decline, filled with good albums, even though lacking true masterpieces like those from the '70s.

Alright, as sometimes happens to me, I had taken the adjective "impegnato" a bit too literally. I'm trying to make amends by adjusting the rating of the review, the only thing that didn't convince me was precisely this (alleged) categorization of what is simply good music in the "impegnato" genre. Of course, if it helps to distinguish it from the various Ramazzotti & Co, then this term is welcome too.

One thing I don't understand: in what sense are Pink Floyd and Genesis, my great passions back then and never renounced, to be considered "engaged music"? It seems to me that this term is suitable for the early Bob Dylan or for some of our singer-songwriters, and even in these cases it doesn't always fit (for example, Guccini has been labeled as "engaged" because of 4-5 politicized songs, without taking into account that in most cases his themes are more existential than anything else). For two bands that focused primarily on their great music, with fairy-tale mythological lyrics (Genesis) or simply visionary ones (Pink Floyd), but never politicized, the adjective "engaged" seems quite out of place.

There is also an emotional value that goes beyond any rational assessment. For me, this record represented my first encounter with local radio stations, which at that time were "truly free," unlike now when they are all standardized and based in Milan or Rome. The music from those stations, light-hearted yet enjoyable, accompanied many of my afternoons, and the E.L.O. were undoubtedly among the main players. But then you grow up, and if listened to with a critical ear, this record would deserve a 3, but it earns an extra point, if nothing else for bringing me back to my 15 years (by the way, how many forty-year-olds are there on debaser?)

Thank you for this comment. It might be the tension of this pre- and post-election climate, or perhaps it's because I've reached the fateful number of 100 reviews, or maybe it's simply that I'm lacking inspiration, but the fact is that for about a month now I haven't sent any out. So, just to avoid remaining in complete silence, I tried to send out my first "editorial," and I'm pleased to receive comments like this. In fact, I was long undecided between a 4 and a 5 for this album: the classic 4.5 (or 9 if you prefer) would have been appropriate. I may have weighed a bit too heavily the certain "indigestibility" of those two more "learned" songs, but then in the review itself, I said their music was beautiful. Regarding the future that awaits us, there was no trace of triumphalism in my editorial (which would be ridiculous in a situation like this): just a certain amused astonishment at how the most unpredictable factors can completely derail the most diabolical plans. Of course, it will only take a stubborn Bertinotti or a reluctant Mastella to put in crisis what destiny (symbolized by Prodi's Ass) wanted to build. A hug to you too, hoping we won't soon return to being losers. Anyway, winners or not, we must admit that liars—and the Liar par excellence in particular—still have a great charm for a large part of this strange people.

Lights and shadows in an album that alternates moments of absolute class like "Con il nastro rosa" with banalities like "Una vita viva." Reversed ratings compared to "Una donna per amico": this time, the album review is better.

Almost like Fagen85, but I would keep "Al cinema." I see the slip-up more in "Maledetto gatto" and (partially) in the celebrated title track, which was a hit back in the day, but that’s not a guarantee of quality, quite the opposite... Anyway, great album, and not a bad review.

There is a lot of poetry in this review. And it is right that it should be so, because there is also a lot in these crystalline interpretations of more or less famous classics by a particularly inspired Keith Jarrett, with a clear and essential style like the words of a poem. An unmissable album, not just for jazz lovers.

All beautiful, all true, but also all damn predictable. And then the review is missing.

Beautiful album in which Caetano Veloso moves from tradition (at times it feels like hearing Joao Gilberto and his unmatched interpretations of Antonio Carlos Jobim) to modernity ("Estrangeiro" and "Os outros romanticos" have a very "European" sound). Finally another review on this great author (mine had been solitary for more than a year).