odradek

"...played with the heart and recorded with the ass" is quite a nice definition of poetics. Also commendable is the relevant use, in its various meanings, of the term "morchia" (https://it.wiktionary.org/wiki/morchia)

Look, I started rereading you, because of the recent meeting, and I forgot to tell you that it's becoming a kind of miracle in DeB to find stuff that you read with pleasure and that after a sentence that made you smile you know that the next one might be even better and, if you're also interested in the music that's being talked about, you get it, what kind of music it is. How to say, damn, good job. Typo "Riff semitonale di basso tagliato molto spesso grazie" is public service. P.S. I don't know where Bartle found the grammar mistakes, but I have no doubt they exist. You'll scatter them to avoid a perfection that would be suspicious, I suppose...

If you are put on the spot and you, with the firmness that distinguishes you, keep your word and refuse the second listening, will you let me know in advance? Thank you.

For the rest of the speech, the speeches, I would repeat things I have already said and reiterated in Deb for a lifetime; the music being discussed IS A PRODUCT, whether you like it or not, all of it. And thus, as that poor guy who likes that other poor guy says, it undergoes devaluations, both those he babbles about, and those stemming from market transformations (which are not only related to the product itself but also to the ways of production, commercialization, "consumption," and the transformations of the general scenario in which they occur, including linguistic aspects, considering the product in question as also and above all a concentrate of subcultures whose "expressive" codes are in constant mutation). For this reason, I do not completely agree with Lector's analysis, but I can't manage to argue further; I have exhausted my maximum daily dose of reasoning. I'm still reflecting on the central issue I found on the page, Kim Gordon ...

What saddens me the most is knowing that in these times of endless possibilities, you have to pay dearly for smoke that tastes terrible.

Beautiful.

Like Funky Porcini, but on an infinitely lower level?

Sorry, but maybe you mean hip hop when you say rap? As far as I understand, rap without voice doesn't exist, I mean, rap is a sequence of very rhythmic verses; what the hell is instrumental rap? I don't want to start a long-winded rant because this could turn into a nasty debate, but please explain to me briefly what the deal is... - P.S. I let the tube go and when this one you mentioned is over, the one that started after (stzzy. - beats to sleep to (lofi hip-hop mix)), I like it more, it's harmless, almost transparent. See ya.

Come on, come on. I never interfere, but now you've really outdone yourself.

I was referring to the one I saw as a child, but I don't remember if it was mine or my brother's: a sort of epiphany, a miracle, almost longer than us. - As for DeAmore, I don't know: I never reciprocate, that's how it is now, I haven't done it in a while and now I don't dare to start again. So maybe it’s better to leave things as they are, in a sense of trembling uncertainty... Now vaju a mi curcu. Bye