odradek

You know, Pluto, there's one thing about the album that I vaguely remember: take the booklet and read how many tracks it has: 46,64? It's a sort of applied mathematics to pop (or powerpop or powerrock, or whatever the heck it should be called, correct me, please) with two or three riffs and highs and lows that perfectly launch the charming melodies of the beautiful girl into orbit, aboard a very carefully crafted sound. And the videos are the most meticulous part of the operation (is the lightbulb head in one of these? That's nice, really nice). But I never listen to it. It's not at all "garbage." It's its exact opposite. It's chrome. One of these days I’ll give it another try.

Damn, Pluto. You're good. I often arrive late to reviews, but sometimes it's worth it (why even talk about worth in this case?) Do more, something new, as I'm not keeping up with the times and I'm curious. Come on. Thanks.

Well, it already seems like a miracle to have some time to read anything in here, where I also find a few (increasingly rare) pleasant comments and I really don't have (any) time to research the "characters" and their little fans. Then, among the musicians (who I can't help but find the word artist hilarious or downright disgusting), I fear there are more than a few who I wouldn't like as people... It's a complicated matter, especially with "rock" music. I understand what you mean, and in some ways I share it, but I have nothing else to add. I've already burned too many neurons on these thoughts. Anyway, I think I've already said the most relevant thing a few lines back: appetite for fellatio. Bye bye.

I listened to it again the other evening, after such a long time. I thought it deserved a resurrection on these pages, 'cause it's still a great album even after all this time and far from the goodwill granted back then to all the MoWax stuff. I see you already did it, quite well. But, upon re-listening to it, while it's true that it's largely "hypnotic," I don't agree at all with "gloominess." But to each their own scenarios, 'cause if there's one distinctive feature this music has, it's the ability to evoke them with every beat. Bai bai.

But why always concentrate all this attention (for better or worse) on the character(s), when what remains, provided anything remains, is the product? Because that’s what it is, like it or not. Iconography is fine, it’s mandatory with "rock" and not just that (it seems this era is doomed to live in an absolute adoration of appearance), for the industry it’s a windfall, considering it’s also fed for free by the fans. But putting out a record about which nothing is known and letting the music speak for itself seems more interesting to me. If the "big fascist jerk" had managed to put together a great record, I would listen to it with pleasure. Without worrying about his adolescent misfortunes or his inelegant political opinions(?). But, while not being so horrible, it's a record that has had more luck than it deserved. Amen.

Gentlemen, excuse the intrusion, but two notes: a talented pianist to the charming Diamanda seems like a comprehensible courtesy, but a bit exaggerated...
She is right about the expressionism ajejebrazorf, but Meredith Monk's work is truly something else and, as far as I'm concerned, extremely richer and more important. Perhaps precisely because of the apparent "detachment." I have to admit that I find it difficult to endure this damned predominance of the character on stage, generally appreciating, indeed, the subtraction.
Pluto, are you in love with the crazy woman?
She has enchanted us all, over time, I see...
Since I'm at it, I take the opportunity: I've seen the name of L.Lunch associated, for understandable reasons, with that of Holiday. My goodness, what an unpleasant effect. I must say: if dear Lydia is as skilled in the art of fellatio as she likes to remind us, she should practice that. How overrated her miserable output is. I wonder why, but I can't stand her. NO no no.

You have resurrected a title I would never have been able to dredge up from my memory, not even during one of those awful interrogations... but now I remember. Yes, I was also surprised that it wasn't the garbage it seemed from the outside. I also recall that the one after that, however, was. As I remember, something between 3 and 4, being kind to the past (even my own). You get a solid 5, because when I don't share enthusiasm for albums, I appreciate even more the conciseness and ability to describe them. P.S. And then, during a long-ago stay in London, I stayed for quite a while right in Camden...

Pupi (diminutive of pupattola...) I expressed a very personal and irrelevant opinion. Then everyone will do what they believe. You just arrived, I came a little earlier. However, one idea, peeking here and there... You must have noticed the heterogeneous panorama, the great variety of shades in the quality of things found within. You might have noticed the sometimes truly overwhelming need to say, in any case and anyway. This is a risk that a place like this must take, given the hospitality that distinguishes it. But perhaps a reduction of space, in favor of an increase in attention and care for the things that are written, would benefit everyone a little.
You’re nice, though. And I'm too serious. Greetings from the den.

P.S. The reference to the purchases was, of course, directed at ..Caz..

It’s an interesting album. And it should be regarded for what it is: an extremist lunch, indeed. Served by a kitchen whose chefs are the names you've mentioned, it was meant to be tasted, even back then, with caution. Whatever is beautiful or ugly or raw or cooked, let everyone seek it out, as everyone will have their personal taste, hopefully. All these considerations related to Michelino's record choices pertain to the way you decide your purchases. I believe he has other criteria, curiosities, and plans. Forgive him, come on.