mien_mo_man

the subject is not the album, but celtic rock. the album is a pretense. I ask: is it possible and credible to make post-celtic rock after Achtung Baby, considering even U2 stopped playing it? the album is a sort of semi-petition to ask myself why the desire for Ireland and epic rock has ceased. Who the vocalist is or isn’t doesn’t matter. these aren’t true reviews if the analysis of the tracks is less than half of the piece. I hope you understand that it’s not the review that, in my opinion, you should be voting on.

I'm from Trapani, what should I do? Should I buy it? It's not every day that my city is in the title of an album. Alright, I'll buy it.

I don't want to defend anyone, but since we were talking about Achtung Baby, Il_Paolo must have certainly referred to the B-side of U", which is to say a band that has always been credible and until the end, but has achieved less success. At least that's how I understood it: the B-sides of the nineties are those of minor characters for one reason or another, but that doesn't make them inferior in quality. I believe it's like that, though I could be wrong. The review of Into Your Heart has also been ready for a while.

Metallus, if you like Orwell, enjoy reading my review of Utopia (the album is OBLIVION); the idea is to dumb down the masses, to flatten minds to stifle their critical spirit, to make them stop evaluating, doubting, weighing. To make them accept everything like cows, to make them accept death just like cows do. And there you have Fiorani singing songs from the sixties, La Russa turning into a comic book character thanks to San Fiorello, that in Italy there are only food and wine columns, that if someone dies struck by lightning while taking a shower there’s a three-and-a-half-minute report, whereas if a member of Italia dei Valori dies because he’s the only one who has challenged and denounced a lasting system of corruption, suddenly <<there are no investigative leads at the moment>> and that’s the end of it, while there’s a need to send out the video with the beach survey: "do you prefer your briefs on the beach to be high-cut or straight-up thong?" and the Benny Hill theme starts playing.

The more I reflect on it, the more I realize that youth has never been better than in those years, and I feel like telling grunge and punk to fuck off, styles and periods that I believe I’ve explored deeply, on DeBaser and elsewhere. Never, despite the deaths of the nineties and the no future of '77, I say never, did life deserve not to be lived beyond youth like in 1968. Life in those years could very well end at twenty-seven like Morrison, and no one, probably me first, would have had anything to say about it. If I had been young and American, and they had told me I would live to 27 unless I became a rock star, I would have agreed. The story would be different if I had been Jeff (and not Tim) Buckley, or the usual Cobain. Now that I'm fully tripping on Gufo Cieco Wilson and Canned Heat, I don't want to stop. Long live the sixties! And no fear.

Please, Il_Paolo, just one last thing: review for me this summer "Ferragosto OK," the little film with Alessandra Mussolini completely naked getting it on with Mauro Di Francesco. I will be eternally grateful to you. Thank you for existing.

Il_Paolo: Thus spoke Zarathustra and Don Quixote are among my absolute favorite books. Now I'm waiting for you to mention The Stranger by Albert Camus and the suicide of Kirillov in "The Demons" by Dostoevsky. At this point, why not reciprocate my DeBaserian feelings?

Mine were not criticisms, but observations, anyway. And I know perfectly well that in life, just as in the mental production of each of us, one cannot always be at their best. If Il_Paolo has lean moments because the topic isn’t one that can inspire anyone with the right spark, that doesn’t mean Il_Paolo should refrain from writing and signing his thoughts. There are tasks a man must undertake, no matter how wonderful or not the results may be, and it doesn’t matter how much the man already knows beforehand that it won’t be the best thing he’s ever done. Sometimes, clarifying one’s own mind is important, especially if one has a mind that won’t settle until that thought and feeling have been fixed elsewhere, on a webpage or on a piece of paper, etc. Any place will do, as long as it’s not in the brain anymore. Thanks to DeBaser, I’m writing reviews on groups justly forgotten by man and by God for at least a decade, and I’m losing a lot of audience and admirers, as well as a certain group of aficionados, but there are things a man must do, even when those come along who insult you for wasting time and wasting a piece of internet space on such stuff. Il_Paolo, don’t stop pinning your thoughts to a nail on the web, no matter what the results will be and how many will criticize you.

In my opinion, this is the most unknowingly (as you guessed as well) content-rich and complete Pieraccuri film, which says a lot. I would gladly note that although the protagonist is not seduced by the teenage cutie, the man on the street seems to prefer the flirtatious one who is all about showing off over the beautiful Berasategui, who, to go out with her, I think you'd need at least two hundred little pre-dinner dates and other pre-preliminaries, regardless of what you see in the film. There's no denying it: the economic crisis even influences sexual preferences. I would usually give the film a 1, but I don’t think that's fair. Its score is 1.8, so

yet another review praising an album that can hardly be described as anything but useless. I’m not sure about the artist; I need to listen to the other albums too, but in this one she comes off as a little girl with a guitar. When the bracelet breaks, she becomes famous, but it seems to me that the bracelet was made of guano and not rubber; in fact, she became famous making shitty songs for Breil.