Stoney

Honestly, I don't understand this "let's save what can be saved" attitude towards Italian music. I don't see why we should strive to elevate a sellout to the status of an artist when, for example, the underground scene in Italy is bursting with amazing bands that have a universe of things to say. It's true that we are completely bombarded by advertising and television...

Your list looks like the game "find the intruder." I’ve identified it; it starts with "dream" and ends with "theater."

GustavoTanz where did you see the comparison between Zabaglione and Scamarcio? At most, I said that those who listen to Tiromancino are the girls from "three meters above the sky" and all that stuff of which Scamarcio is a representative. Got it now?

@gbrunoro, there really isn’t anything to understand that’s worth the effort. You may not have talked about "true art," but everyone else does, especially the mass media who presents them as THE artists par excellence. It’s bothersome because slowly but surely, people get used to this standard, just like in the '60s when people got accustomed to the Beatles' standard, even though rock had reached much greater heights at that time (with all due respect to the Beatles), but people believed that was the pinnacle of music. Then, when you consider the vast chasm of difference between Ligabue and the Beatles, it’s easy to see how the situation becomes even sadder and more unacceptable. The logical connection between such low quality and the disproportionate success of these kinds of people is lost. A modicum of intelligence would suggest that such pseudo-musicians should be forced to work the land to earn a living. Since we are on a review site, let’s call things as they are: your argument of "well, it’s just music, it can be liked or not, let’s not nitpick" is very superficial and applicable to ANY album ever released. If discussions about music could end like that, then what is the purpose of a site like this?

Marpado, how can I not quote every line of yours? But no, we're just jealous... we don't understand anything, we're not sensitive to true art. "And with a clean face you walk down the street eating an apple": genius. "These nights are nights or do we give them to you": Premio Crusca. "You're already in a happy hour": wow, the language of the young. "Lalalalalala, let me enjoy": saint right away. But go where Marpado has already sent you...

And then, marpado... if only it were as you say, that young people get depressed easily. For me, the problem lies further upstream, in the fact that presenting someone with a vocabulary of 40 words as "cultured" has significant implications. It gives a voice to that part of the "gggggiovani" who don’t want to think, who want to have carefree fun, and in the end, they don’t care about what they listen to, as long as there are people around and everyone has a good time together. Who cares if someone only remembers the chorus and doesn’t even really understand what it means, do you want to be a stickler? Poetry, culture... boring stuff studied at school, we are young and we have to have fun doing things that are ends in themselves. We need idols to support, but they must speak our language (made up of 10 words), tell us how sad it is to be a teenager, how much we love girls, and how sad it is when one doesn’t want to give it to you. This way, we can delude ourselves into having "our" culture and justify our persistent state of ignorance, so even the most obvious and trivial things will be considered the "non plus ultra" and we’ll have an excuse to say once again that the world doesn’t understand us.

@gbrunoro: your comment number 43 fully entitles me to feel disdain for the Italian public! Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, don’t open your mouth, because you only make a bad impression. Go back to listening to Vasco's "poems," which is the highest you can manage to comprehend. Marpado said absolutely right things in his last 2 comments.

"freeing oneself from the posthumous sounds of the '80s to embrace the dictates of the newborn grunge." This phrase deserves public flogging. Grunge. The magic word to toss in when one doesn't know what to write, when two vaguely rocking guitars play half a riff, shaking the innocent ears of the average listener of Italian music accustomed to poignant feelings à la Baglioni and Cocciante. This happens even in a country where "rock music" means Celentano and Little Tony.

Here it is. We were just missing the comparison between Federico Zabaglione and Jimi Hendrix, now we’re all set. I had to endure them at the May Day concert among a crowd of freshly turned 18-year-olds and excited girls dreaming of their Scamarcio to take them away. Shame.

Mike Patton used to be strong, then he got full of himself. Now, only 4 enthusiasts remain to listen to him, who, the more noise he makes, the more they shout genius.