odradek

DeRank : 8,55
DeAge™ : 7677 days • Here since 3 june 2005
The Residents Not Available
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In the readable parts, it's a bland rehash of Scaruffi’s review, with some sections taken almost verbatim that immediately caught my eye ("the atonal, arrhythmic, amelodic structure of the compositions" must have seemed too impressive to alter, so it’s copied as is). In the parts, let’s say "original," necessary to piece things together, the usual improbable syntax of Battle. But why?
Alessandro Stradella Ester protrettrice del popolo Hebreo
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Damn! Thank you, Lector.
Michael Apted Gorilla nella nebbia
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Dear @Jimmie Dimmick, I’m bothering you because when I read the name of the director, it seemed to remind me of something... Do you know what this Michael Apted got up to in 1964? He started a documentary for TV following 14 seven-year-old English children, selected to represent a plausible and representative cross-section of English society, in terms of social classes and geographic backgrounds, asking them what they expected from their future as they grew up, and then he met and interviewed them again at intervals of seven years, the last time I believe in 2005. I had watched part of the documentary, known as "Seven Up," and it seemed to me a very interesting work. - You couldn’t care less, could you? Well, even the clumsy attempt at Milanese humor applied to Apted's modest film is not exactly at the heart of our immediate concerns, but I read you carefully, appreciating the attempt. After all, we are here to have a conversation, right? Cheers from an old bonobo.
Moondog The German Years 1977-1999
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How funny, this thing. For some reason, after all these years, DeB displays, instead of the fake nicknames used by some, their original ones and vice versa. So it turns out that the sweet @[donjunio], who acted offended by the "baseless accusations" and claimed he had no idea who PolkStreet was, making me look paranoid and even gratuitously offensive (he, the innocent one, had nothing to do with it), in short, the revealing comment from Donjunio, now that the mechanism of Deb, who knows how and why, becomes revealing, how did he log in? Come on, PolkStreet, that very PolkStreet he claimed not to know, for which he felt unjustly dragged into... and in the comment he writes, "I respect the work of other debaseriani too much to play such stupid games." What a laugh, now that in his comment, with the nickname Donjunio gone, one of those he logged in with to play those stupid games on so many pages that had better ratings than his appears, and then he gave nice ratings to his own. What a pity to read that then, a year later, he returned to the comments insisting, "I was very sorry about this controversy, Dave, especially because I was called into question in a completely arbitrary manner." How can one be, even just virtually, such a jerk? How sad, right? But how funny, after 11 years, to have confirmation that what was suspected but hoped to be false (given the repeated and petty denials of the young man) was exactly as it appeared: someone good at writing pages that were on point, well-written, seemingly passionate, spent his time seething because someone received better ratings than his own, and concocted pathetic maneuvers to lower the ratings of others and raise his own. And, seen from the outside, I too would have thought, "this odradek is a poor paranoid, just imagine if Donjunio..." Yes, exactly, just imagine if Donjunio. What a pity. But time seems to have taken him away. All that remains is a laugh, discovering how obvious so much childish meanness is, now.
General Strike Danger in Paradise
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I understand you. Both for "the wave of enthusiasm... of the first listens" and, above all, for "the increasingly faint urge to talk about music" – Yet you do it well when you do it. Hello Macacao.
Marc Lawrence Scrivimi Una Canzone
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Maybe you’re a gay faggot. Blame it on Hugh Grant? You’d love to pin it on him, huh? In the profile, you mention the uterus, then you call Hugh, you like effeminate films. Hmmm, there’s chaos.
The New Year Snow
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But it's basically a Bedhead album for grown-ups, isn't it? This thing about the years passing "in" the people who form bands is a fact we often forget to consider. But even if they change their business name and show up differently at the chamber of commerce, they are still older. In the meantime, I downloaded it, just because the review is really nice and reminded me that they were good. - p.s. when I'm at this PC I can't vote: I’ll give you a five by hand, nice pen.
The Alps III
The Alps III
12 jun 17
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I was writing in a comment, not long ago, about albums to "dust off," but I was referring to things from 25, 30 years ago, this one is from 2008, just yesterday, basically, and I actually liked it. Completely forgotten. And how many there are, damn it. P.S. Given the heat generated by the page, you could have perhaps posted "Into The Breeze," but maybe it was so excessive, the heat, that it produced "Hallucinations" ;)
Cowboy Junkies Black Eyed Man
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It's a pleasure to find a page dedicated to such a significant and decidedly little-known author, it seems, on DeB. Even though it brings a smile to read about her as "the author of two novels and a few stories," considering the indispensability of her over 30 stories in the realm of American literature. And the smile is also generated by the fact that evidently the author of the page knows, certainly better than I do, the stories of the lady (and in describing the protagonist of "La schiena di Parker," they perhaps caught a not improbable resonance with the dalit that populate the story from which he himself comes). That the tender Cowboy Junkies, resurrected for the occasion, provide the not at all pretentious pretext to talk about Flannery, is an excellent reason to dust them off, given that I too, like the eminent @[imasoulman], confess to having fading memories of this, I had a bit of a crush on the Trinity Session and this perhaps circulated less. Lately, I've been dusting off some records, thanks to DeB, I also know where this one is, it will be easier. Thanks a lot, Mr. Almotasim.
Cat Power Cat Power Solo, Live @Latteria Molloy, Brescia
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You’re sweet, with that unlikely jealousy. Well, you’ve chosen a rather restless muse, judging by the rumors about her. I remember her beautiful, fresh, a bit dry, I believe. Today, even curvaceous? Well, I see she’s from ’72... - Regarding the tears... maybe I understand you a bit, with the difference (and I assure you it’s not trivial) that I never shed them, since I was 10, although I’ve had my chances. We’re strange creatures, damn it, don’t you think? I’ll play five-handed too, as I don’t want to accidentally draw your ire.