pacino

To talk about this album, I would like to pull out from the hat some 'bianche parole' ("white words"), which unfortunately (alas) I still don't have...

Good record, a review of great style. It almost made me want to go back and listen to some classic Elton (and it had been a long time since I thought of something like that!!)

From the ancient miniaturists of the East to the New York graffiti artists, anyone who has set out to do something related to self-expression has faced (sooner or later) the issue of style and personality. It seems that Civello, although talented, hasn't considered it at all... what a shame! For my part, I recommend listening to "I've got my own hell to raise" by the great Bettye Lavette...

bleak, vivid compliments. I just want to say that I have loved this album and the Talking Heads for a long time, with a passion that has a long tail, so much so that even today I sometimes buy something from the good Byrne.

I confirm that the story "For Esmé: with Love and Squalor" is in the collection "Nine Stories" by the shadowy Salinger, a collection that, among other things, opens with the magnificent "A Perfect Day for Bananafish"!!!

... I forgot the grades...

Everyone carries within them some memory linked to the little man sitting at the piano... the little man appeared in my life very early on... one evening, many years ago, a young friend of my father's brought home, along with some white wine and a few poor animals killed due to the passion for hunting, a double white record featuring a skinny little man and very black curls. I didn’t even know what it really was, yet the vinyls were the only thing I liked that evening (I was really small), and they left me with a strange taste-sound in my head... after quite a few years, there’s (in my memories) an evening at a concert with a wonderful girl with fair skin and warm kisses, a girl who didn't really like the trio (but it didn’t matter if she liked the trio, I just needed her to like me)... later on, there’s a bit of solitude and also a record (that many don’t like) with a painful and haunting rendition of "I Loves You, Porgy"... and then who knows what else there will be... each of KJ carries within themselves many memories...

I can say that I miss the Great Miles. I miss him with his pout, those sudden shifts that nobody expects, those nervous notes, that sweet, bitter, earthly quality? I can say that listening to a Miles record makes me feel the same sweet and inconsolable sadness as looking at a photo of a loved one who is no longer here?

I recently saw Randy in a solo concert at the auditorium in Rome. His body is now a bit heavier with time and his hair is almost entirely silver. The grit, the melodic ideas, the fierce irony are, however, still the same. If I had to recommend an album, I wouldn’t know where to start because in each one, you can always find (miracle) the essence of Randy Newman. For me, he is certainly superior to both Billy Joel and Elton John, who (also talented) have dissipated their creativity in intense flashes from years that have long since passed. Rest assured that if you choose an album from him (even recent), you will always find a spark that will raise your eyebrow in surprise, astonishment, and pleasure...

At the time, for us teenagers with our hormones raging, the Housemartins were perfect. Yes, because they also appealed to the girls who were always a bit annoyed by our overly dark passions ('Cure' or 'Diaphragm') as well as those that they considered a bit polished and sophisticated (The Style Council). In short, we didn't know what to do... so by listening to them, we could finally embrace them a bit with the stereo cranked up... as for the Beautiful South, in my opinion they made at least one great album (Welcome to the Beautiful South) featuring the almost perfect "Song For Whoever"...