odradek

Well, if the intent is indeed what has been declared, namely to take advantage of the opportunity provided by a public space to give visibility to a talent unknown to most, the execution of the little page seems to want to overlook this, relegating the subject to a few lines at the end. What crushes it, with its frankly debatable bulk in the premises, in the articulation of those premises, and in the hasty and superficial Manichean conclusions, is the effort to sketch a rather superficial scenario upon which to radiate considerations that have the tone of pronouncements. In short, the good Salvatore Maresca Serra, of whose existence and fate I am unaware (I will end up researching about him), seems more a pretext, and this function strikes me as more offensive than the shadow cast over his figure by the thousand causes we could try to examine, if only we felt like it. I do not, because if we were to start from Duchamp to talk about "artistic" products (and we could debate for decades on the ambiguous nature of the term, regardless of this or that theorist's definitions, given the countless implications in adopting any definition), we could not afford (proceeding with a minimum of what is usually called "intellectual honesty") the luxury of dismissing the fountain with the superficiality and historical decontextualization that you employ. So I will not delve further, and while I find the attempt entirely regrettable, I recognize its failure in tone, substance, and the excess of self-referentiality that, as I said, sacrifices a figure to whom it claims to want to do justice. Regards and kisses. - P.S. In your indignation, you rave about accusations of plagiarism: I cannot trace any among the comments. Now, if what concerns you is measuring the volume of others' gonads, be my guest. You can find mine in their usual location, a bit more swollen after reading your enlightening exercise in "counter-information" pedagogy, which you yourself declare, at the end, without a shadow of a doubt, interesting. Someone up there used to say, “I sing and play for myself”: well, they weren't entirely wrong, what do you say?

In agreement on everything, the previous album, as you know, struck me on the first listen and I still find myself replaying it: this one seems more "normalized" but the quality is there.

I was quite skeptical after having heard something in the past: I was therefore very surprised by the average quality of this record. Not the highest score, but it definitely deserves a solid 4.

But as the listening goes on, a question arises spontaneously: what’s the official drug for this kind of music? Wanting to exclude LSD for obvious age-related reasons, I think that weed is its perfect match... But even the one without "alterations"... Am I wrong?

I'm listening to it: well, it’s pretty much what I imagined from the review and the posts. Me gusta

I’m a bit of a nuisance (I do it quite well): what does "Your grandmother condemns this record for the absence of Violence" mean? Did you mean "Your grandmother attributes this to this..." or "Your grandmother condemns this record FOR this..." - Since you use it as a catchphrase throughout the page, build this sentence correctly, dear. - That said (and I wonder why no one has told you this, it’s rather obvious), I confess that, as usual, you’ve piqued my curiosity and since you say it’s a relaxing record and also well-recorded, I’ll look for it. Thank you.

Mhhh... the mysterious charm is not a ploy, artificial or stage trick: it comes from the imaginative space that the text is capable of generating, a space free from the emphasis and urgency of saying (rather than being) thanks to precision and a natural elegance, which is often the result of sobriety. A space that allows words and phrases to resonate again, revealing their multiple and enigmatic nature. Subtracting rather than accumulating, suggesting rather than attempting exhaustive description. Suggestions from a logorrheic, of course... :))

But it is precisely the reading of the labyrinthine pages of the Argentine bard that can serve as an excellent guide. The precision of his words does not strip them of the mysterious charm that you seem to be trying to ascribe to yours. In the prose of the great Argentine writer, the extreme attention to word choice and the organization of the sentence are indeed determining elements. Do you agree?

Errata corrige: commmmmpiuto

I also love Borges. Ever since I met him, a loooooong time ago. A little less Neil Young, whom I also met before. - In some instances, the strains you impose on your prose twist it until it is devoid of complete meaning...