nix

A practically perfect review. I can't miss this movie.

simple and clear review. I appreciate it too.

marchingrap, my son, I believe you could write the history of the world in 40 pages.
And the best part is that I would be one of the first to buy the book. I don't understand why, but it's true.
Perhaps I'm fascinated by your total disregard for all the implications of publishing a piece like this on Debaser, a haven for acid cats (to quote an important source), passionate about music and rotting fish bones, endlessly whining at each other, yet ready to tear each other apart over a couple of misplaced commas.
Then you come along and write the history of the Beatles in twenty limping lines.
Fantastic.

"Beautiful in summer" is a wonderful song, and Mango has written quite a few beautiful pieces. I have the feeling that this singer is still today affected by a curse, a prejudice from the more cultured audience of pop music that Mango does not deserve. Well done RinaldiACHTUNG.

Ah, this time luludia, you hit the nail on the head. Eden unleashed my twenties imagination, and even the next album, love not money. I adored this duo, their tracks that sometimes aimed to be full of rhythm but instead oozed melancholy and rainy days. The dreamed tropical paradise sitting in a small café in Turin, while outside it’s raining and we’re at four degrees above zero. Then I lost them along the way. This album is still a little gem, but I haven’t been able to find the spleen of the first two anymore. Maybe I’m the one who has changed. Is there a fan club for Everything on debaser? We should think about it.

True, this is a good review.

well done, simple, clear, and direct.

I appreciate these reviews of Battisti's albums, written with evident love for what is being discussed. This one, in particular, doesn't say much that hasn't been said before, but it's done fairly well. I've always found the album to be insignificant, and Battisti (the reviewer) hasn't managed to convince me otherwise.

strange musician Amedeo Minghi. Sometimes I find myself melting into his melodies, including that of the trottolino amoroso. Then a mysterious phenomenon occurs: after six or seven minutes of delight, I am suddenly seized by the doubt that it might all be one big monstrous scam, composed by a formidable fraud. I turn everything off, cautiously, hoping that no one saw me swaying to the Maestro's notes. I still haven't figured out where the truth lies.

... it was a song by the Skiantos