Il_Paolo

Great Nick Drake, I especially like Bryter Later (Hazey Jane I and II etc.)!!! However, I suspect he listened to himself too much, and thus he ended up depressing himself. A bit like the resolute Luigi Tenco and the uncertain Gino Paoli.

A cornerstone of the Rush of the late '70s, it is weak in the two short songs but exceptional, as many have already noted in the two suites ("La Villa Strangiato" above all). As for the connection with Futurama, in another episode if I'm not mistaken, there is an explicit homage to Rush, so the idea of a tribute to the flying brains is not far-fetched: always keeping in mind that the evocative album cover I believe refers to Magritte. Nothing could be more misguided, however, than to think that Rush peaked in the '70s: they are excellent at least until "Grace Under Pressure" ('84), losing a bit afterward, although still with albums of excellent quality!

Well, Zelig, while I think the "reputation" of an avatar seems like a somewhat abstract concept ;) it’s enough to check the comments written by these Warholian epigones to distinguish them from mine. I’m still glad to have some replicants, as well as a small unintentional tribute to the real (?) "Il_Paolo" gives things that uncanny touch... so when I come to Deb, I never really understand if I wrote certain phrases. ST, Il_Paolo

Bravo Finardi, even though he’s not one of the "minors" as I consider them, I like him: "Extratterestre," which I heard this morning on the alarm radio, is excellent (with a slight metaphor about drug abuse), but "La musica ribelle" and "Diesel" aren’t bad either. Even before Vasco, the singer of the decay of youth in the late '70s, from an urban perspective and not the peasant or mountain view of our national Blasco. I don’t know why, but I’m convinced that if Finardi had died young of an overdose, right now everyone would be applauding him as a genius of Italian music and they would have dedicated a nice TV movie to him (cutting out the part related to drugs and making him die, I don’t know, from a heart attack). PS: my fake - funny - has an I instead of the L (l). An operation à la "really fake" from my idol Fiorello.

Did you know that my parents named me "Paolo" in honor of the priest who married some of my relatives, don Paul Marcinkus?!?

Count, it took you a week to get to this page! No one - least of all myself, who seems to be the target of the national Marco Poletti's anathemas - ever seriously considered banning the aforementioned, especially since his disappearance from the cinematic wing of the site would entail unspeakable damages to my very "mission." I have forgiven him. And yet, I regret that by describing Poletti with certain adjectives, you are implicitly denying that I - the true Il_Paolo - am NOT "idealistic," "good and sensitive," "sincere and genuine," all qualities that are usually acknowledged to me even by my worst enemies. Disappointedly Yours, Il_Paolo

In my opinion, Vasco, at least until 1983, makes sense: he describes the collapse of a certain youth in the Padana countryside-periphery, in decidedly original and unmediated tones. I, who was there at the time, remember how he was attacked by the self-righteous (like Nantas Salvalaggio) and stuffy intellectuals, becoming a sort of outcast of Italian pop. From 1984, he began to become mainstream, idolized by segments of the paninaro youth, becoming, in my opinion, a puppet of that actually conformist generation, the model of a "I would like to but I can't," the semi-toxic friend who actually doesn't hurt anyone, and is also likable. A sad ending, but perhaps he deserved it for having plagiarized Judas Priest right in "Dimentichiamoci questa città," taken word for word from "Living After Midnight" from the previous "British Steel" ('80).

An intelligent review, but with two flaws: it is too ahead of its time, in the sense that one should talk about the Veronese duo in about twenty years, likely qualifying them as "minor"; it also lacks the critical distance that such works deserve.

Dear Fake "II_Paolo", once again you're missing the mark: the approach of the Einstürzende is not that of a child, but that of an adult who, in the post-industrial era, seeks a phantom return to the purity of music through tribalism, substituting the products of his time (steel, etc.) for bongos, etc. Tribally Yours, Il_Paolo