Dislocation

I absolutely love everything, but really everything that the demi-god in a wheelchair has done, but I need to take it in small to medium doses, I know.

Well, in '92 I was working for years and Pezzali/Repetto made me feel pretty bad, even though I had seen them in concert (backing singers Paola and Chiara, for instance...).
Now, however, Pezzali as a solo artist makes me feel even worse if that's possible.
Not to mention that gundunassu Repetto who, after achieving nothing in life, is now writing books and pontificating as if he were some philosopher.
But I really like your way of "grasping" an album, describing it through personal experiences and your own bullshit.
And be careful with @[IlConte] ... he always talks about girls but is notoriously attracted to the passive side of gay sex; they call him Saponetta and if you've attended a shower-spot in a locker room, you know why.

You truly instilled in me an irreducible, uncontrollable urge to not listen to him.
Thank you!

Little to discuss about artists of such caliber, even if I would like to add a Patti Smith, a Baez, I don’t know, a Siouxsie, a Grace Slick, and I surely forget half a dozen more, maybe even a Debbie Harry who, as the frontwoman of a band of guys, has never been caught unprepared... All of them, in different realms, with different ways of doing and acting, capable of supporting femininity and steadfastness of purpose.
Anyone who says "women with balls" should be immediately sent to the firing squad, and their remains scattered to the four winds, fed to the beasts.
Nowadays, in this field, total darkness or almost, let’s say thick fog.

I also prefer Zuffanti, for form, inspiration, and syntax, but I still trust Pardo and the Crac, of which I've also found some things on Cilio, just to say... I think I'll get it.

Having turned thirteen in '76, I went through the whole punk_new wave scene at least until '82, when the State made it clear that I had to sacrifice a year of my life. So, black jeans, Bauhaus and Uvox t-shirts, Doc Martens, deedondedooor, belalugosisdeed, oh, oh, oh, dislochesciooonn, I saw it all. Sigh.

Nothing to say, a fundamental group, the true backbone of all Italian music. In the field that would later be called "prog," I've always preferred them to Le Orme, then Banco, and then La Premiata, and even the Trolls during the Concerto Grosso/Searching for a Land/Ut period were giving it their all with ease. Also considering that in Italy we enjoyed a host of proggers who were, astonishingly, even of international caliber, goodness gracious, oh my!

On cheesecake we agree, puah double. As you say, Uncle Pino, after a hesitant singer-songwriter debut, fired off a barrage of six albums between '79 and '85, each one more beautiful than the last, among which, for me, his peak, Bella 'mbriana, at a time when, whether he liked it or not, he represented the cream of Italic music, the only one, or almost, able to hold a candle to the international greats in rock, fusion, and blues, engaging with musicians of enormous caliber ("Pat Metheny made me shit my pants..." His words...) and receiving from all of them, precisely all of them, words of sincere admiration.

In the mid-'80s, I think Pino glimpsed a way to maintain his career that allowed him to significantly limit his efforts (he had nothing more to prove to anyone and his heart was playing nasty tricks on him...) and he settled for simple, straightforward tasks, with always perfectly polished products, very well packaged but absolutely empty, without inspiration or feeling... The lira still came in, the commitment was considerably less, and everyone (???) was happy...

It goes without saying that, after the mid-'80s, the highest artistic peak coincided with the major public success, which was his return with the original group to remake and celebrate Nero A Metà... Not by chance...

Then he ended up the way he did, and maybe we like to think of him as someone who would have had a resurgence of flame and inspiration, who knows, who knows... We are left with those six albums, not a small thing, damn it.

I had heard somewhere about the missing piece in Vengo Anch'io, remarkable.
The early Jannacci's preference for Brazilian music, especially Vinìa, puts him, in my opinion, in an even more radiant light than the one in which I usually envision him enveloped.
A work worthy of being among his top three, despite being an anthology.

First of all, welcome back to the brave @[Trofeo], a big hug!
Then... Well... I believe that all, I mean all, of Pelù's solo career has been a balancing act between unbearable attitudes of a provincial rockstar from times gone by and earnest efforts to produce truly rock sounds, raw and basic, which have actually materialized into polished productions and a lot of wantingandre-discovering-don't-say- that...
I had the chance to listen to this work thanks to a colleague who is a fundamentalist of Litfiba, and I felt the same sensation as always, the one I just described.
And then, who am I to criticize the gaseous emissions of an ex-rocker from a nursing home caught between a diaper change and a bowl of hot semolina?