NickGhostDrake

When Idlewild made their debut, Arctic Monkeys were 8 years old each... probably in the middle of elementary school.. :) And if everything goes as it should, by the second album they'll end up fucking over everyone, just like those annoying Kaiser Chiefs!

I'm also responding to Mopaga: Idlewild are on their SIXTH album, far from Arctic Monkeys and Kaiser Chiefs. When Idlewild debuted, these bands didn’t even know whether to choose music or finish school, and without Idlewild, many of them would probably sound much worse than they already do...

a great little album, no doubt about it. the idlewild made me happy with these 10 songs, truly a nice comeback, not as good as 100 broken windows or Hope is Important, but almost as good as those two and definitely much better than the last one and also than The Remote Part. One song above all: Ghost In The Arcade, dreamy lyrics and a sharp guitar that cuts through. nothing else, I just wanted to share my thoughts ;)

fuck... I was just writing it now... shit... :)

you don’t care about your own ego, but you care about mine? you’re too strange, hugoniot, I will never understand what you’re trying to communicate to me. come on, let’s make peace, let’s take the penalties with farts: whoever touches the goal manages to save them if he ignites them in mid-air.

Well, this is too subjective an issue; unfortunately, I can't argue against it. It's clear that if you like them, you have your reasons. I’ll leave this nice dispute with a good away draw. Unless hugoniot comes back to thank me for the good play shown on the field, in which case I'll return for the penalties.

On dubbing, I insist: my criticism is not towards those who enjoy it. I just say that watching Taxi Driver with De Niro's real voice is an immense pleasure. Or Walken in "King Of New York," same. Most of these great actors have a vocal expression, a play of tones, a capacity to compress words, stretch them, slither them that no dubbing actor could ever reach. Not to mention that films (like the extraordinary "Three Burials..." by Tommy Lee Jones) play precisely on the beauty of languages (in the given example, Spanish-English) which, in dubbing, completely lose their identity, becoming a single language that makes no sense within the contrasting play. We see a western filmed at the desert border between Texas and Mexico, and Tommy Lee Jones speaks like a Tuscan trying hard to lose his Pisa accent. Perhaps I’m wrong, perhaps it’s a lost cause (and I care only because, like anything, I criticize cinema from an extremist viewpoint). Unless hugoniot wants to thank me for my perspective, in which case I shall have at least spent three minutes of my time for a reason. Or maybe he thanks me because he doesn’t think it’s right to tell me to fuck off instead? The mystery thickens even more.

Of course, Hugoniot, it's just a joke, we shouldn't take offense, especially if we're both leftists: leftist nonsense has now been normalized and congratulations to all involved. Unless you respond to me with "thank you, Nick, for your post-modern, post-Berlusconi, post-media vision of the new socio-political balances."

hugoniot, my critic and tenacious pursuer, writes one thing from the following options: "thank you, Nick, for your maxims," "thank you for your teachings," or directly "thank you for existing," which is undoubtedly my favorite. hugoniot, brother: I am not superior at all, I am an idiot just like you.

hugoniot but is it possible that you can't write a sensible message? come on, together we can do it! I never said I was superior, you're the one who, instead of commenting on the reviews, chases my messages and replies to me with a tone of constant inferiority complex. and then who the heck knows you? I don’t even know you and I have to respond every time I comment. but what about a word on borat, can you manage to say it? the mystery thickens.