marpado

Sure, whatever you want, Vasco here, Vasco there, poet, artist, giving voice to the feelings of the yyyoungsters and so on... but damn, enough with giving double 5 to all the damn comments you make. Don’t you think?

@clako and sciusciola are two glaring examples of the average sub-human fan of the "rocker" from Zocca. Semi-literate, they provoke hilarity when they try to add tone to comments and reviews by throwing together random words, thus attempting to disguise their abyssal ignorance: "to all the brain-eaten who possess only critical and legal faculties... I say that first of all Berlusconi must die today... secondly, the average Italian is the fruit of great presumption because no one knows what it is, as anyone could find themselves in such a role"... what the hell does that mean, why don't you speak like you eat? Why do you strain yourself if you have a second-grade education? Why don’t you speak like your Vasco, whom we might actually understand? They present themselves swollen with resentment, like sciusiola, towards anyone who points out that their Vasco makes shit music for shit people; because the sad truth, so brutally thrown in their faces, must hurt: Vasco Rossi has been writing a handful of crap for nearly two decades because that’s all the flock of sheep like clako can understand, and nothing more. Any concept above "pussy is beautiful, what bastards those women who won't give it to us" or "life is a bitch" would be unattainable for their atrophied neurons. Moreover, they are convinced, or rather made to believe by those who have to sell them records, that with Vasco we are facing an artist, a poet, even a national monument. And so those crude concepts mentioned above, expressed in a sparse and limping Italian by a character of dubious morality (by the way) become a cultural phenomenon worthy of such a name. No less. We even give Vasco degrees, no kidding. And at the end of the day, crania residents like clako, while finding themselves screaming "lalalala make me enjoy, eeeeeh!" amidst hordes of other societal scraps like themselves, convince themselves they are intelligent, cultured, even that they understand music. Because Vasco is a poet, everyone says so. You need to go extinct like the dinosaurs.

Ridiculous title, like an elementary school essay. Texts bordering on the grotesque, easy-listening music... the usual Vasco, in short, the same crap for the average Italian. Now he’s even added the nostalgic-polemic streak of the average old Italian: anti-establishment and sloppiness by the bucketful. And the mob, which never stops, immediately screams masterpiece, poetry. This country deserves Vasco, there’s nothing more to say.

Just to say that Federica Moro was a guest on Chiambretti this Saturday...nothing to say, she's a stunning woman, improved with age. I mean, she's 43 but looks at least a decade younger, at a minimum.

"stunned by their beauty... but beauty of whom, of Di Livio?"

Same as adp.

Even though when I read that "Il mio corpo che cambia" was a nice song for you, I was tempted to stop reading, I don't know why I continued. I go against the tide; in my opinion, this review is worth reading, despite everything, perhaps also thanks to its brevity, the concepts are thorough, all in all, despite their simplicity of expression. A brief summary of the end of Litfiba and Pelù. Then in the content, one can also disagree: Litfiba with that Cabo trying to imitate Pelù are as sad as good Piero as a solo artist post-'99, regardless of the intrinsic quality of certain tracks. Such a character is fine for a cover band that has no other ambition than to play in some pub or mini-gathering, and that's it. I just hope that driven by the hunger for money they don’t actually decide to reunite, Ghigo and Pelù, because they would produce nothing but crap like "infinito," if not worse, thus completing the definitive burial of a name, that of Litfiba, which still has the possibility of drawing eternal dignity from its glorious history.

Three reviews of the latest Rem...and none for Vasco's. Alright, I’m in, keep it going.

Saw it tonight on satellite... well, despite Crescentini's perfect boobs, proudly displayed along with everything else, I couldn't get past the first half hour of watching. Absurd and acted by dogs, I can't help but wonder who decided that Vaporidis is an actor...

Well, I can understand those who become attached to certain albums because they are linked to particular moments in their lives, but there’s a limit to everything, I believe. This album, and the previous one (Mondi Sommersi '97) in particular, "fell" into an era when many users of this site, myself included, were more or less adolescents/high schoolers carefree. But that doesn’t mean we should let memories and nostalgia cloud our judgment to the point of denying the obvious: some songs may be tied to important moments, first serious crushes, initial experiences with the opposite sex, the last real foolishness with friends, but some crap, like the recent Litfiba "Peluiani," to be clear, remains indissolubly crap.