mien_mo_man

Hi Il_Paolo, I wanted to tell you that… yes, you did well to review this book, which isn’t so bad after all, even if it’s aimed at a housewife audience with varicose veins watching Network 4 looking for Tempesta D'Amore and finding Fede charming, witty, a bit of a rogue, and, all in all, wise. She is exactly the embodiment of the average Italian woman from the first republic who wants to escape anonymity: first she tries with bel canto, then she dares with shouty pieces and breaks through, then she recycles herself on TV... Before people like Pupo, much more simply (and credibly) than the faux-guru Celentano, she simply readjusts her plan, which is not to become a great singer but to achieve fame to escape the province. Then, when the poor dishes became the trendiest ones, when she felt like a television flop with no room for improvement or hopes of prime-time slots, here she pulls out this book, a self-assertion useful not so much to old ladies but to herself, to reclaim her identity. The return to Sanremo crushes her, the television career is reduced to a series of bit parts where she plays the provocateur, with her former sex appeal and who even remembers her voice anymore, and music farm with Franco Simone isn’t enough... However, the character managed to make one last splash indeed, when in politics (the only thing she was missing in life, besides a prime-time show on her Silvio’s networks, both a burden and a delight) she said to Santoro: Basta co sto continuo andare addosso a Berlusconi. Lo proviamo. Se non ci piace gli diamo un bel calcione nel sedere e lo mandiamo a casa,” a phrase that convinced all the skeptics and ensured that the giant-dwarf’s victory was taken with philosophy by that mild opposition, effectively forcing the nation into a first step into a political Maelstrom that will lead us to the abyss. Just for this statement, she deserves to end up in elementary school history books (I hope Gelmini will take care of that).

So here we go again, huh? Why did it take you so long to come back?

But are they the ones I eat love, I am the bee and you the flower?

Anyway, on the new wave front, at the end and the beginning of synth beat or synth pop, the story of the Cars is emblematic. This new wave group becomes synth beat with Heartbeat City... Their super album, their milestone, containing their most famous tracks, and their swan song, as they will disband with the following one. Some dismiss it in 1984, while others in that year and with that transition are consecrated: Heartbeat City is from '84.

After my letter to Roger McGuinn, I see that first Currahee seized the opportunity with The Flying Burrito, then the punctual Lewis with the other Graham (even though Parsons was actually called Gram and not Graham). May the summer of love resurface on DeBaser, at least on the root-rock front (less so on the blues front, considering the outcomes of my experiences with Canned Heat)?

you are all right. I love aor (often also defined as aom, meaning music instead of rock) even though I hate stuff like Bon Jovi. on the front of 80s soundtracks of aor, forget the god of the genre: mr. Kenny Loggins!!!

I hate the furs paninari of the second version of Pretty in Pink (that guy with the blond hair sticking up...) but so far I can easily digest them. It’s true, this album has several minor tracks, but there are three or four little gems that I wish all the bands in the world could match in terms of quality. Obviously, the furs I love the most are those pop, not stupid, from the first Pretty in Pink, a song to sing or play in my naj oleari jeans from when I was a kid. Depeche Mode overrated? Their last two albums are a flop. In the singles without an album, like "Only When I Lose Myself," they do well. But in general, their electro-pop sandwich doesn’t appeal to me at all. As for Rundgren... Well, whether you like it or not, don’t you think he’s simply a God? Have you listened to Butler's album with Jon Carin? Carmine Pescatore and I reviewed it.

A REVIEW COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM HOW I WAS WRITING IT... A GEM THAT I WOULD HAVE HAD THE ENORMOUS PLEASURE OF PROPOSING TO MYSELF. NEVERMIND.

I have a few questions: can I review my father's new lawn mower on Debaser? And will you publish an article on Inter's next Champions League match? What about Sara Varone's schedule? That wouldn’t be bad at all. And who will review Lucignolo Bellavita next summer? Besides T-shirts and a few CDs in Bolzano, don't you sell anything else on this site? And can we avoid giving ratings, just leaving feedback? Think about it, Publisher, because there’s no turning back, and when DeBaser is too rich with things that aren’t its own, then a second, a third, and a fortieth amateur review site will promptly come along to take its place. Just to remind you of TV, do you remember how cool MTV was in English? Good music or crap music, those who watched dreamed of being international; then it became Italian, French, programs became globalized, and total request live were in 50 different squares... Now MTV is crap full of reality games and Japanese manga, and Paris Hilton. Will this be the death of DeBaser? Video Killed the Internet Star.

splendid the "I love you" ending, splendid this one of yours, which more than a review in the form of a letter is a letter with a review inside. I knew she would end up like this: back then, if you wanted to make appreciated music, you had to be as fragile as a reed, exposing your delicate side, but those years are long gone now, and have been for a while. Enough of the hypersensitivity of the nineties: the millennium that has just begun is marked by absolute emptiness. The worse it gets, the better it will be: music will become zero, and one can start again.