voodoomiles

I meant to say that Nick Cave will NOT be counted among the classics/intellectuals, there you go.

The issue raised by the gentle Panapp I have modestly resolved for my own use and consumption as follows: on one side, there exists cultured music, which, as such, without specifying subcategories, is music that does not necessarily have to respond, although no one forbids it (considering that classical music was often written on commission), to a public/market consensus, without being au contraire an elite for its own sake. On the other side, there is commercial music, and that says it all: beyond the shared period, the differences between Spears and Cave remain, even if I believe that people will remember Nick for the ballads of a good popular musician, but he will be counted among the classics! Miles Davis often insisted on the concept that classical music (though he abhorred the term but not its fruits, a term that for him meant the hegemony of white European culture) was American (for him, Black, of course) jazz; Morricone, who, besides being a master of soundtracks, is a musician-researcher with the contemporary music project (here we go again!) Nuova Consonanza, fully fits the definition of cultured music: and I connect this to what you, Panapp, say about high-level entertainment music, where I wholeheartedly agree with you.

An opinion, men of justice, or a ruling: is there a difference between listening to Britney Spears in the original and the remix by Justice? And the same goes for U2 (who do great on Deb), and Justin Timberlake? Kudos to the French who, in addition to wines and cheeses, have also stolen the crown in the cheesy disco scene.

Dear Sirs Reverse and Iside, I am pleased, where can I find the photos of the 3 Maries?

Dear Miss Fedeee, I had understood "personal non-culture" as a direct wound to the average Debaserian, and hastily I had taken its defense. At the same time, I read in your comment an excessive valorization of Trix’s paper, which I have just now discovered to be auTRICE instead of auTORE. In fact, she has not insulted anyone, so I deduce that she is a person of good manners. I assigned a score of 1 rather randomly, and now I confirm it so that she remains modest and reserved. I reassign it to the work because, even though it impressed me when I was little as I browsed through my father's art books, I consider Dalì Ormai Dilà to be a mannerist of himself.

Miss Fedeee, "this section is uncomfortable for many because here the lack of personal culture becomes more evident"—I imagine it’s a provocation born from an overdose of polenta taragna! In the Corrierino of Debaser, fine critics from the Arts, Music, and Entertainment Division write, and the devoted commenting users, I assure you, all come from the camping out in the Alme Mater of Knowledge. I like you, Fedeee, but don’t fall into the snobbery of cultural hybris!

The thesis for True Art Enthusiasts of Debaser is not good, no no. Sgarbini and Boniti Oil fuori di bal! And then these monographic courses on Avida Dollars during Art History classes, horror films during Film History and Criticism classes, and tons of black metal in the Metallurgy class. Panlio Malmieri Returns!

Great review, let’s hope we don’t have to wait for SanScemo to find sound documents. In the meantime, I’ll try Ray Gelato(?).

It would be interesting to verify, even just for statistical purposes, whether the track reviewed in the club had any kind of picking-up function. I remember that some of my numerous female classmates from high school (18 out of 23 students, with the two boys barely reaching 160 cm tall, obviously) quite liked the track, but I lack the evidence from the club which I didn’t attend (and I believe, in fact, that in my large village there were nightclubs and other suitable places for putangiro rather than discotheques), sometimes preferring the party branch that was located in the center - in those good times, there were three PCI offices, two somewhat peripheral and closer to the dwindling working class, and sometimes local venues with fanciful names and a reputation for anarchy (to be understood in the Italian way, meaning one feels anarchic simply by walking in the street and not on the sidewalk). (One Christmas Eve at G******** F****** an excellent cat was cooked with a side of polenta and bagna di crivella (leeks in rounds and tomato purée)).
Amid high listens (jazz, free and improvised music, progressive, engagé music or outright political), I certainly didn’t include Balsamo in my playlists (which didn’t even exist back then), while among the tastes of my classmates, of good stock, pretty and entirely genetically ready for a comeback, which included Baglioni, Battisti, Bongusto, Branduardi (one very cute girl counted Alice Cooper among her favorites; it should be noted that she was the second of three sisters), it fit perfectly (between Baglioni and Battisti).
Can you imagine those times? Soon enough, my classmates would be more horrified by the brand-new listens of Ultravox and Rattus Norvegicus than by militancy - for me, there’s never been the mandatory parka; I dressed in clothes and wore shoes from Via Condotti.

A record is now something you can't deny to anyone. A production is something Brian Eno no longer denies to anyone. A review is now something that isn't denied to anyone. A well-matched work and review among the Articolo 31, four nonsense pieces on Salvador Dalì, Malgioglio, a comic book collection good for keeping the table level, horror-tv format, and Cicciolina. Instead of going off on his own tangent, dear Neo Reviewer, to whom I wish no harm at all, you should quench your thirst with Finnegans Wake commented on by James Joyce, Edgar Allan Poe by Panlio Malmieri, Ancora de Il Divo written by the Punisher, La Faccia del Mare (Odyssea) by Giustiziere (not sure if related to the former), L'Italiano by Cotugno drafted by Il_Paolo. Having sung the praises and internalized these little works of popular music criticism and sustained an adequate course of reasoned and argued commentaries, then you will know how to simultaneously delight us and enjoy the well-deserved autofellatio.