Dislocation

May glory always go to the multinomeecognome, I won't say more.
You just seemed a bit poisoned regarding the well-known “technical” incompetence of Our Guy, in the sense that we know he was certainly no ueiccmen or emmerson on the keyboards, but that wasn’t his way; he sought, and regularly achieved, sparks and languor from keyboards and tapes, and then from computers, to provoke, dirty, weaken, delight, or even judge the fearless listener, who wanted to be unwary and perplexed.
This as a composer/performer.
As a producer, well, you know, ups and downs.
What makes me smile a bit are those artists who choose Eno as their producer and then, some time later, complain about his influence on their work, about how many of their choices he changed the outcomes of.
For heaven's sake, you could’ve chosen Kekko from Modà and it would have gone smoothly.
But hey, your writing is beautiful and, come on, what an album.

Just to be sure, I’ll repeat it for you, so you can’t later blame me for not having told you enough, that you were distracted, that your elbow hit your knee... in short... This planet is spitting us out.

What Thom Yorke does, for me, is beyond debate. It is discussed, but it is not up for debate.

From his Faccialibro profile, a maxim etched in stone:
"You can't tell me you've already forgotten everything, you still have the creases of my heart stamped on your face..."
And then, then... the hyper-definition of himself, that wonderful @mirkozulloscrittore, whatever.
O tempora, o mores.

Parachutes was, for me, a beautiful album, well-crafted, produced, and played.
Then a downward slope.
Every triviality, technical description, or journalistic distinction holds little value in the face of the scarcity of such a poor repertoire.
I quote Vocefaccia, all true.

Oh my gosh.

I have always liked reviews that start by talking about records or movies and end up discussing personal matters... I used to do the same, indeed, but more prolix and lengthy, that is... Mediterranean, then, uhm... I saw it upon release; it had been presented as the final episode of what was then called "The Trilogy of Escape by Salvatores," the third film after "Marrakesh Express" and "Turné." In fact, it truly was the culmination of a fine work, of which I especially appreciated the first episode, but I have also rewatched this one, I don't know, maybe fifty times over the years, or thereabouts... It suffers a bit from the desire to cram in a bit of everything, from anti-militarism to "herbaceous" culture and so on... the group smoking scene and Bisio's song escaping on a boat are a bit unbelievable, like Mameli's anthem on the island that was not the national anthem at all back then... yet as an apologia for running away from everything for those who don't fit in, it still works well...
Perhaps unintentionally, the film served as a reinforcement for the thesis of the Italians as Good People that has been force-fed to us for many years by popular folklore aimed at denying the atrocities that Italian soldiers also committed in the occupied territories, certainly far below those perpetrated by the German ally, but there were some, and they were denied and covered up for decades, and in part still are...
The film itself is wonderfully made and even better photographed, the soundtrack is effective, and good grief, it even won an Oscar. The acting is excellent, with Abatantuono taking the lead, well above the excellent Bigagli, who was thought to be the protagonist/narrator but who had little opportunity to shine alongside Diego. All were great, seasoned and wise, from Cederna to Gigio Alberti and even Bisio, for heaven's sake...
Then, quite a while later, I read the book from which it was loosely adapted, that "S'agapò" which described the experience of a group of Italian soldiers during the occupation of Greece, by Renzo Biasion, and their gradual "normalization" from occupying soldiers to free and happy islanders, integrated into the local society, simple and primitive like that of any Italian "rural" locality... a book that even faced restrictions on publication due to accusations of lèse-majesté against the Italian army... just imagine, teetering on the edge of ridiculousness... among other things, the film barely touches on episodes of homosexuality among the soldiers, which in the book, for example, are well explained... and there are none of the annoying anachronisms that are present in the film...
I remember the book as being better than the film, as is always the case with books from which films are adapted, but only slightly; the beautiful "glossy" photography of the film was truly an extra that the film enjoyed fully...
Nice review; I expect no less from kloo...

I messed up with the stars.

Van the Man, anything else?

Absence of ideas expressed in great detail.