supersoul

So, I'm sorry that part of the zappiano people didn't understand the purpose of the review: the album is a PRETEXT, I went to read the reviews on Debaser to find the shortest one, the uncle... uh... master needed to vent and to unleash his notorious megalomania, I needed the shortest review, not necessarily the most deficient. You see, when we review an album by some new band today, we immediately say: but the Stooges or the Velvets already did this thirty years ago!!! But when it comes to these new geniuses of the avant-garde, I'll give you an example: Battles, no one says: damn, but these half-gay cadences Zappa already had FORTY YEARS AGO, resulting in singing praises to the innovators of this crap (of which I have plenty too). Zappa was a genius, with the difference that he would come out of the bathroom and brag about it. Do you see today's innovators coming down from their pedestals to be photographed while they take a dump?

I would like to clarify (though I hope it’s unnecessary) that by conjuring up Uncle...uh...Master Zappa from the toilet bowl, it was not my intention to offend him or to offend the numerous devotees who, as such, will surely remember that poster where he sat nude with his pants down on the toilet. Back in the mid-seventies, a lifetime ago, I had it hanging in my room against my father's (R.I.P.) wishes, who murmured, "What a shitty impression we make on our visitors." From the memory of that poster, the idea for the review came to me, done in a style that might annoy some purists but would have gained Uncle...uh...Master Zappa's approval. Hungry Freaks, Daddy.

Pardon, it’s Tanya, instead Katya is Aunt Immacolata Concezione’s little dog, to which I threw a shoe because she was gnawing on the cover of the album. Sorry for the review deemed short, but I struggle to read long ones, so I try to condense what significant I have to say in as few words as possible, believing (mistakenly?) that others also get bored reading music reviews of four pages.

But then, do we really need this talk about neorealism amidst the insults exchanged by the participants in this topic? Please...

@bartleboom I'm not here to evaluate what Poletti said, which is also what they teach to the kids. I have a few more years than someone in high school, and I can tell you that my idea of neorealism is quite particular because it goes against the grain. Zavattini used to say that neorealism is like following a man around all day and then making a report on him. And do you think this report gives you more guarantees than placing that man on a papier-mâché set, cutting together close-ups with expertly edited timing? Realism is the eight hours of Andy Warhol's fixed shot of the Empire State Building.

Poletti talks about where supersoul is, as if the purpose of his reviews is to challenge others, to show how he is better. I have never had competition (which leads to ambition) in my blood, so I don’t accept or throw down challenges. In his review of Sciuscià, I see so much Manicheism from a bourgeois Veltronian who, as usual, skirts around the amazing film but is incapable of seeing that erect cock. He gives us a lecture on neorealism, treating debaseriani as if they were kids in the first two years of high school, rambling about poetic intensity and a sense of profound human dignity and the reaction of the Christian Democrat critics, but he doesn’t illustrate the true “blows” dealt by the film to the respectable society of the time. For the two children, committing crimes is part of the game to realize the dream of the white horse; it’s a clash with the adult society, made brutish by times of misery, which never plays a role of help but only indifference and hostility towards childhood, and by incarcerating them, they rob them of that one beautiful and priceless thing they had: friendship, and if you take that away from them, you take away the last hope of a possible future. This is what makes the film relevant today. But I believe the “flaw” of De Sica lies in overly loading this theme with moralism, which distances it from true “realism.” The merit could be that, given the moral critique, it escapes ideology and, therefore, politics, allowing all of us, without any distinction, to make it our own. Honestly, Poletti’s review buzzes around these issues with a nearly zero incisiveness and therefore bores me.

I, even though I'm a billionaire, would spend two hundred euros for a concert only if Jesus Christ or whoever made Mastro Zappa come back for one last round. I can even put it in writing and sign it so that if it happens, I'm obligated to break the piggy bank. For the rest, at that price, everyone can go fuck themselves for five or six consecutive hours.......

I just want to say that I saw Kim Rossi James Stewart act in "Anche libero va bene". He seemed to me the worst; both the "wife" and the "children" are better. Judgment restricted to just one film, of course.

...by the way: regarding the fact that Sting has sex for five (and not six, let’s not exaggerate) hours straight, I heard that afterward he feels good except for the fact that his ass hurts a little...

No, "In heat" is not crap; there are excellent episodes like "Nine months later" (old perv Protrudi, see what the pitfalls are of sticking your dick in every hole?) and "Cheyenne rider." Plus, there's the entrance of the great Jordan Tarlow (former Otta Place and former Morlock) on guitar. The fact is that the Fuzztones have "evolved" towards a harder and less spontaneous approach.
@vortex: 1) Did you see them in Bergamo in '85? I know there were only a few people due to the lack of promotion for the concert; in this case, we can proudly say "I was there," not like for the Police in Turin today for 92 euros... 2) I bet Rudi would have done anything to get the part of Henry Rollins in the short film shot by Richard Kern with Lydia Lunch in "The Right Side of My Brain."