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listen to Nebraska recorded on a TEAC four-track for voice, harmonica, and guitar and realize the value of the boss beyond producers and backing musicians, and therefore the bullshit you spew when you say that Springsteen is done with The River... it’s you who are done.
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he didn't sell it, he traded it for Gremlins 2
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But it's clear that he made the same mistake as the other one who posted the same review not even ten days ago; he forgot to click the five stars and by default, three came out. Let's see if the next one gets it right in ten days...
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Melissa, if you go on a blind date with Poletti, you'll recognize him by the copy of Mereghetti he always carries under his arm...
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After bringing up Romero, I'm waiting for Poletti's rant....
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Today we talk about the artwork of the Danish director, but it makes me smile the fact that the film was a Franco-German co-production also made for the English market, financed by a Dutch baron who even bought(!) the main role.... practically a blockbuster of its time (which, however, flopped at the box office, like almost all works of art). Putting jokes aside, I still have that image of Death with a scythe against the backdrop of twilight etched in my mind. One of the most evocative vampire films alongside "Martin" by George Romero.
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Damn, but how's the quality? These tapes have been rotting in a box for forty years.....
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Poletti... maybe Mereghetti gives ratings on a scale from 1 to 10, and that way you had to make the proportion...
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There were 26 of them, but maybe Costantine took into account the interests from 1967 to today. I'm tired of always giving this album a 5 in a review for the tenth time, and then life hasn't changed it for me, so this time I change the rating: 1.
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Bubi, perhaps in Morandini Poletti you won't find an answer to your question. If I can help you, having seen it a million years ago, I can tell you that Hank Williams has nothing to do with it. The protagonist of the wonderful (to me) film by Clint is the embodiment of the nameless stranger, the Texan with ice-cold eyes, Bronco Billy, who has lost that cursed "armor" and is there to tell you melancholically that they don't want to die, that they confess their weaknesses to you, that they don't want to be swept away by the cyclone, that they want to sing for once in the grand theater of Nashville just as they raze the city to make amends for the wrongs suffered. Clint is the last great romantic of today's cinema.