odradek

Hi, Gabbox. You are very kind to them. Between your liquid appreciation and the widespread disillusionment of a good part of the press (and some of their fans), I find myself in the middle, giving it a 4 that is also a bit benevolent. It's one of those albums where the "weakness" is the part I like the most.

Symbad, for what it's worth, I recommend Flying Teapot, even though I'm more attached to this one.

I add, moving away, an opinion (famous) endowed with some authority, even if I share it only sometimes and only in part, to further complicate the matter: "Music critics are people who can't write interviewing people who can't talk for an audience that can't read" (Frank Zappa) Bai bai

The concept of creativity remains to be defined, as Pin mentioned, to support the mathematical proportion outlined by the friendly Pixies, excluding the attempt to define art, an endeavor I gladly leave to others. It is certain that if we consider the critic in their professional dimension, the feeling of parasitism is almost mandatory (I suspect that good old Pin alludes to a condition that involves him much more than just a monitoring conversation..) and recognizing it might be an act of necessary intellectual honesty. But there is undoubtedly a creative act even in drafting a page, in the ability to express what cannot be (dancing architecture) even by traversing the object without striking at its heart, even just by taking advantage of it, as long as we do not play with ambiguity, attributing critical value to what does not possess it. However, if the intent is indeed to exercise a critical judgment, then we could respond to the Pixies by asserting that sometimes, and not so rarely, we can comfortably reverse the terms without making a mistake. We often encounter many more "derived actions" hidden by the presumed creative act than in the ability to unveil them through a few lines, endowed with their own life. Yes, I am quite confused, but I write immediately, as that’s how the game is played here.

I return, realizing that, in the meantime, the matter has branched out and become more complicated. I start with the protagonist, Ascanio, who notices imbalances towards the text. Well, it would be difficult to comment on the samples, if not to mention some possible terms of comparison. If you've jumped between the other pages, you may have noticed that with the known albums the situation reverses, and it’s quite logical. Then, putting together part of what you say with what Pin says, aided by the Pixies: I don’t think things are exactly that way, at least not here. Not always, as Gabbox also pointed out, are we dealing with pages of music criticism. And I don’t think that music without criticism equates to masturbation. Because listening is not in itself a critical exercise, even though it can be. But it becomes one only if it finds a way and occasion to express itself. At the same time, criticism can be masturbatory, even more so in the presence of an audience, but it can also result in a creative act sufficient to justify itself, incorporating the work in question as part of its own discourse.

That old stuff was already overrated back then, even though I used it quite a bit too, but if you like these tacky things, I think you're a real tunzettaro, for sure, my friend :)

Vanna has an excellent selection of DVDs, all miraculous, but even she doesn't sell this one...

No, she really had to write to DeBaser. I liked this "review" a lot, and even though it’s a risk I wouldn’t have taken (I’ve never been too fond of this stramiliardario who even dared to take my Charlotte!), it's better to have warnings on the packages here too, considering the highly DeShared compulsion. Here's another 5!

Antò, I'm just reading you now by chance. I don't like that one, nor am I particularly fond of this page. Can an admirer afford (accept) some disappointment? Yes. In this case, you with them (the R.E.M), me with you (here). But on the balance scale, you can't just place your expectations.
So I won't give you a 1, and I hope you've erased your score for them, at least in an ideal sense.
There are some beautiful things, and even very beautiful ones on this album. And then Michelino's voice lifts them from the one even without intending to. Bye, terrone.

Amalteo, we’ll talk later, I'm a bit busy right now. Sylvian, read the mail.