alessioIRIDE

gummo, with this beginning I close. Two more, you say? I don’t think so because one is a fake who has never seen a movie and bought two film dictionaries, the other talks to you as an equal. I was waiting for you at the gate for the various comments you’re leaving. Let me put it this way, maybe you don’t care but I always say it with pleasure, you’re really getting on my nerves. There’s a paradox here (I won’t repeat what supersoul said, but I quote it). A man alone in a multitude, an integral part of the multitude that isolates him, what is it? The usual no-sense??? And Big Dave getting abducted and tortured by aliens who will force him to never touch his wife again (justifiably since she’s a total wreck) what is that? I’m not waiting for your answer, in fact it would be nice if you didn’t comment on my pages anymore given (I repeat and quote myself) that you’re really getting on my nerves. HALOA

oh mom, we got ourselves a new teacher. how nice!!!

Poletti, you must have had millions upon millions, but a little exclamation comes to mind: 'sti cazzi. I mean: this technically impeccable film, as far as I understand, is a touch to the heart. If someone wants to limit themselves to judging things as if they were a robot, then say what you like. I judge with my heart, and this film makes me frivolous and tearful like a cheerleader. Why? Because Billy Bob Thornton has a face that breaks the screen, because the Coens stop being jokers for a moment and let us understand what they really think of the world, because Ed Crane is all alone and the only one in a multitude being part of a multitude, because he tears apart the American dream, because it's a noir, all right, but it's surreal for how the characters are portrayed, because there are things that while you watch, you think: what the hell does this have to do with anything? For me, it's a 5, and not the usual 5, but a five for those films that truly become part of your personality or because they seem like they were made for you.

supersoul, at the crossroads of death (I’m sure you know this... but I’m going to show off anyway) Sam Raimi makes a cameo :)

No, but something slipped by brother Tobby... we're not talking about how indie should sound. Only a fool would do something like that because indie doesn’t have a sound. Fugazi is as indie as early Sonic Youth. Elliott Smith is as indie as Black Flag… that’s the beauty of it. We’re talking about an attitude here, that indie attitude, which is no different from the punk or hardcore attitude synonymous with freedom. Musical freedom, freedom of expression, freedom of everything. Rock 'n' roll, as Neil Young would say (the Provenzano of rock, the boss of bosses), is just a matter of attitude. STOP... no one said these guys play indie badly, at least I didn’t. I only said that things should be called by their name and that indie, referring to these guys, is an offense to those who break their backs in basements or travel miles for concerts of 30 people just in the name of their freedom of expression and for the fun of feeling free. If the discussion has shifted to their musical value, it’s simple: these guys are so awful that you can't help but say it. And, excuse my verbosity, it pisses me off that a single by these divas is metrically identical to an old one by 24 Grana, but that’s a bit lame music... this is Cool!!!

What bothers me is emptying words of their meaning. These gentlemen, Doherty and the other idiots, are to indie what Avril Lavigne is to punk, but while the 14-year-olds listening to Avril Lavigne are discredited, those who listen to the new era indie are considered cool. These Kooks and all the other garbage are like Tokio Hotel, just for a different target. For the 12-year-olds, Tokio Hotel; for the 14-year-olds, Avril Lavigne; for the 15-year-olds, 30 Seconds to Mars; for the 18-year-olds, these idiots from NME. You’re a target, people, and you’re still putting your faces outside the door.

"Look dear AlessioIride or whatever your name is," AlessioIride... you can read, right? "I don't believe that four young twenty-year-olds, whether they have talent or not, have the financial means to self-finance an album... come on, let's be reasonable! Ignorance is a nasty beast." The world is full of four twenty-year-olds financing their debut album. It has always been like that, today as yesterday. If you don't know them, that's not my problem; if NME doesn't talk about it, that's not my problem; if your name is Doherty and you like these guys, that’s again not my problem. Hello.

Indie here, indie there... indie is not a genre, but a movement, a way of being, and these four idiots are with Virgin, which doesn’t exactly seem like a small indie label that numbers records by hand. If all these beautiful bands that beloved England and the cherished NME talk about were truly indie (therefore autonomous, therefore free), we wouldn’t even know their names. You've broken my balls with your ignorance. What the hell. The producer labels it indie because to the average consumer, indie sounds a bit like alternative from a few years ago, and what does the consumer do? Accepts it passively without thinking that these idiots are playing because there’s a larger plan behind it. Of course, one shouldn’t overthink it. If you like their music, there’s nothing wrong with that, but being passive in a world that offers all possible knowledge drives me crazy. One and one to all the reviews (even if they are well-written) from British idiots who are labeled as indie. I’m not tolerant, and you’ve definitely broken my balls, Doherty, Moss, and the Arctic Monkeys.

Alright... I'll take note of it. Excellent review.

we are, clearly, faced with what is nothing short of a bunch of SHIT