Il_Paolo

Hello everyone and thank you for your always generous comments! A special thanks to the legendary LaRock for coming back to visit me and reviving the glories of times gone by! By the way, LaRock, you tell them that I have nothing to do with De Lorenzo!!! Completely different styles and besides, I’m certainly not a Berlusconi supporter like him and like the Boldi in this little great masterpiece... To Voodo, I say that I have the unmistakable underslash _ after the article that defines me, while De Lorenzo does not have it; he has De_Lorenzo, which is a fake, while I am real, authentic. Truly Yours, Il_Paolo

Welcome back Maestro! What can I say, I hope that while drafting this gem, memories have flown you back to an old classic birthed from my humble keyboard two years ago, where we tackled the themes related to Romina's sketched and perhaps unfulfilled career. I grandi successi - Al Bano e Romina Power - Recensione di Il_Paolo

Years go by, but when I think of Al Bano, Loredana Lecciso doesn’t come to mind; rather, I picture the 80s fusion of the Apulian Californian and the Californian Apulian, Indians not from the Padania but Mediterranean in that heel of Italy that’s like the Mojave, stoner pop turned up to eleven and happiness. The supreme Romina, they tell me today, is wandering around Rome, a meditative freak touch reflected in a gaze that combines the sadness for her lost father with her mutilated motherhood in Mississippi, mystical yearnings towards a possible vastness, alongside the grace of someone who has forgotten their own beauty. Every now and then, thinking of them, I recall the Meganoidi’s "brucia ancora/che prima o poi ritornerò/conservo di nascosto/sempre lo stesso sguardo," and I hope that Romina and Al see each other again, re-ignite their bond on "Ciak si Canta!" on May 7, with the wonderful Miriam Leone, where THEY WILL RETURN TOGETHER ON TV!! We await with bated breath. ST Il_Paolo

Thank you, Carlo! You're very kind and I’m embarrassed by these compliments, but you have indeed highlighted a point in the review (taken from a real event that happened to me) that none of the other commenters valued as it deserves, and it had been somewhat superficially forgotten amidst the usual insults from the guys on the site. That is, in the end, all that remains are the songs, or more generally our artistic expressions (or even technical ones, like the little rovers on Mars): the person I was writing about was almost a delinquent, but today everyone remembers him for his sweet thoughts about his mom (there's only one of her). So I don’t see why insult poor E.F., who is, by the way, a good and nice guy. Best regards, Il_Paolo (PS: thank you, the photo is from a place that is very dear to me).

Dear all, thank you for your visits and comments, sometimes positive, sometimes less so, but it’s all part of the game when on Debaser one tries to present some unique and alternative perspectives compared to commonplaces (like saying that Sardinians can only perform the a cappella songs of the tenores or other niche music, and are not good, rather excellent pop singers! As if, instead of a ham sandwich, they should eat malloreddu every day if it were up to you). A few side notes: dear @Cofras, I apologize for misspelling Hyknusa, but I took it from Wikipedia to give everything a cultural gloss! Anyway, I take note (by the way, until the other day I thought it was just a beer brand); @Chaos AD: if I make mistakes it's because I never proofread, and in a rush, you can never tell... ;)); @Birbabirba: thank you my dear, it is indeed right to highlight the merits of the author of the text, considering that in my review I focus more on that. You also end up like the sage pointing to the moon, but everyone sees the finger: so accept, as always, the silly criticisms from others with serenity! @everyone else: I hope you appreciate Scanu, but also that you read Leopardi (he's a 19th-century poet) and Montale (he’s a 20th-century poet); you can find some of their beautiful poems online that might help you better contextualize the Sanremo singing: the art is always the same, beyond the fences! Cordially Yours, Il_Paolo

Hi guys, first of all, thank you for the excellent and unexpected feedback; a bit less criticism, but that is the fate of my reviews, which essentially mirrors the fate of the things I write. Just a passing observation (since French is the language of the Savoy!): feel free to criticize the music, the song, the media operation, but please refrain from political comments, which are very far from my feelings and intentions. For me, this remains a site where we talk about music and not politics! A special hug to Skeletron and Birbabirba, and a warm welcome back to Muffinman! SV, Il_Paolo

When I'm asked to start writing again, I always reply: "What's the point? I sit down, turn on the computer, and read Rivoli directly; you should do it too!" And they do. That being said, my dear Valerio, the "double 5" is a must. Just one note: you say we've all had A Pooh moment in life. Perhaps not: we have MANY Pooh moments in life. In '83, I spent my afternoons staring at my neighbor's green Moto Guzzi while "Buona fortuna" wafted through the air, "è della Vergine/e si sa/le menate che fa/faccia da rock," I sang that summer while spying on my neighbor Giorgia; in the winter of '86, Facchinetti was freezing me with the cuts of "sognando/correndo...", in a world divided by walls, while I awaited letters from my Prague pen pal Klara. In '93, I had the nerve to confess to a friend that "the sky is blue, above the clouds." It was a rainy Saturday, and she said to me, "Paolo, I don't like the Pooh. Goodbye." Now she is married, has two children, and a husband who still goes to Nomadi concerts.

How did I miss your best one, at least after Andrea True?! Great as always, Rivoli, your thoughts are my own. The Campus green apple shampoo is my Proustian return to the '80s, both in the strands of female hair (but if they're clean, any scent is good) and in my own (yes, it's true): in Portugal, Garnier makes a variant that they don't sell here in Italy, while this summer I was gifted a new green apple shampoo variant, I believe produced by us (I don't have it here to check) that simply drives me crazy. As my current barber used to say - when as an apprentice he tried to sell me hair products - "a shampoo makes the difference." And how could it not?

In recent days, some very valid writings have come out - one day someone will tell me why I am not among the "editor's picks," like none of my over fifty reviews! - which have somehow called me back into partial and necessary activity, at least as a commentator. I’m adding this guy to my favorite users, as he has the talent, the writing ability - and, let’s admit it loud and clear - the professionalism and objectivity of a true reviewer. I have only partially followed the second season of X Factor, but this one, no. The show is nice, without infamy and without praise (neither Alfano nor Francesca, although I would see her better than Mori, even if the top choice for the many gay people who follow these things would be Ambra, or Raffa Carrà, if SuperSimo doesn’t return), all in all, it picks up Warhol’s well-worn idea of fifteen minutes of fame, or Sergio Endrigo’s “Quanto mi dai se mi sparo?”: however, I dream of a show where these kids sing the repertoire of Rosanna Fratello, Tony Santagata, things like that. A dream, unfortunately.

Lovely comments from Carlo and Finnegan! I agree, and I’m happy to remind you (I still keep in touch with Carlo, it’s been a while since I virtually met Finnegan). I respond to Bartleboom: dear friend, Birba and mediocrity are logically incompatible concepts, so it's always 5, even if it presented a blank space. And what do you want: returning to these shores makes me good; the fakes of the past are no longer around. But also: once it was all countryside here, and the mid-seasons are gone. We live, not by chance, in winter cities. Yours sincerely, Il_Paolo

Dearest, as I was reading this review (wiping away, I confess, a few tears of gratitude and distilled happiness), I found myself humming the tune of the White Stripes that accompanied our national team's victory at the 2006 World Cup, thinking that – truly – it is in sports that the ethical roots of a people lie, just as it once was in the art of warfare. This review is indeed light-hearted but not lacking in substance, and it reminds me of one of my favorite films, featuring two classics: Bud, the sportsman, let’s not forget, and Jerry Calà with his charm and irresistible allure. Fun, flavorful, with a strong nod to amateurism as a way of being athletic while respecting the rules and the recreational, humanistic purposes of every physical exercise, this film is truly recommended, perhaps to be watched alongside "Lo chiamavano bulldozer," another classic of Spencer in solo action. Especially beautiful is the final agnitio, the unveiling of the ancient rivalries between Spencer and the Americans, recently echoed by the delightful cartoon Surf's Up (the one with the penguins). Keep it up, who knows, I might soon return to lend you a hand in this critical review! Continuously Yours, Il_Paolo