The Punisher

If 4 film critics speak poorly of a movie (from Corriere della Sera to Il Tempo) and having not seen it myself, I tend to trust their opinions a bit. Is it a big mistake? I have never spoken "lightly" about the two masterpieces (?) you mentioned, but rather about works that resemble each other in their repetitiveness; however, I have never DOVE into the critique of the two named CDs. Since there are two other meticulous and precise reviews with plenty of names and data (as the teacher Kosmogabri likes so much), I thought it would be more interesting to offer a "gut reaction" without excessive knowledge or embellishment. If you don't like my way of expressing myself (and I see that you are not the first), I'm sorry, but I hope there will be just as many people who appreciate my "style" and my frankness (controversial and destructive, I agree on that), in the face of too many overly sweet and flattering reviews from colleagues, which I believe are too generous with stars for mediocre or barely sufficient works. Considering the fact that, let's be honest, one could have 200 albums in total to cover the best, or at least the essentials, of international rock/pop music from the '70s to today, wouldn’t you agree?
P.S. I hate Playstations and also Gameboys, so you'll have to be patient a little longer...

I would feel like listening to something, but I'm afraid it would be too much like the various Ivan Segreto, Sergio Camariere, and so on. What should I do, should I trust it?

The statement "Our side has done a mock-promotion for cinema or for love" is justified by the fact that Bjork HAS NOT DELIVERED, in terms of research and innovation, what people expected from someone like her (we're not talking about Madonna, right?) but has limited herself, in my humble opinion, to doing a job "with her left hand," somewhat scraping the bottom of her experiments and somewhat working with Great Craftsmanship. Probably, and I hope so, the album was not meant for release (for what I want to "hope," she would never have done it) and that it is just a clever marketing operation made ad hoc for the film's programming when it comes out. Forgive me, but I disagree on the inaccuracies: what did I say that was INACCURATE? Did I talk about the director-husband and NOT the fact that he is also an artist? That I didn't mention Will Oldham as a singer? And if it had been Tom Yorke, would it have changed things significantly in purely musical terms? The line between noxiousness and precision is often thin and not always necessary. But that's just my opinion. I often remember certain phrases or strong and powerful thoughts like atomic bombs; unfortunately, I don't remember the authors, where they were born, and in what year they wrote them, and whether they were published by Einaudi or Bompiani. Is it such a grave fault? Not for me.

Dear kosmogabri,
to judge a piece of shit, it is not necessary to know what the author ate the day before, whether it is dark beige or light brown, or whether it is spiral-shaped or anything else.
"When it's shit, it's shit: the specification doesn't matter," sang the late Gaber in the song "Quando è moda è moda" from the album "Polli di Allevamento," recorded in 1978 at the Duse Theater under the artistic direction of a young Franco Battiato and all that...
If I want, I can be fussy and nitpicky (like you), but I'm convinced that this pedantry (when it doesn't affect the intrinsic value of the work) can be found more effectively on the internet, while, on the contrary, you will hardly find an isolated voice clearly stating "BJORK HAS MADE A MISTAKE" for various reasons that you, who are neither foolish nor naive, can imagine.
If you care, for completeness of information, we could always write the reviews together, right?

Dear kosmogabri,
to judge a piece of shit, it is not necessary to know what the author ate the day before, whether it is dark beige or light brown, or whether it is spiral-shaped or anything else.
"When it's shit, it's shit: the specification doesn't matter," sang the late Gaber in the song "Quando è moda è moda" from the album "Polli di Allevamento," recorded in 1978 at the Duse Theater under the artistic direction of a young Franco Battiato and all that...
If I want, I can be fussy and nitpicky (like you), but I'm convinced that this pedantry (when it doesn't affect the intrinsic value of the work) can be found more effectively on the internet, while, on the contrary, you will hardly find an isolated voice clearly stating "BJORK HAS MADE A MISTAKE" for various reasons that you, who are neither foolish nor naive, can imagine.
If you care, for completeness of information, we could always write the reviews together, right?

Dear Kosmogabri,
I don't care who made the shit, what the author ate the day before, how many stripes it has, or if the shade leans towards brown or dark beige.
"When it’s shit, it’s shit; the specification doesn’t matter," said the late Gaber in a piece titled "When it’s fashion, it’s fashion" from "Polli di Allevamento" published in 1978, with the artistic direction of a young Franco Battiato, recorded at the Duse Theatre in Bologna, and who cares about all that.
As you can see, if I put my mind to it, I can be meticulous and a pain in the ass (a bit like you), but this information can easily be found online, while someone telling you that Bjork released an album that IS CRAP is "almost" nowhere to be found. If you want, we can do the reviews together; isn’t that a good idea?
Kisses

Dear wrecking ball, rightly everyone expresses themselves as best they can: you, for example, with a language reminiscent of brain damage (no offense), and I with epithets and more or less crude expressions which, forgive me, have now become part of common vernacular. Thus, I intend to make my miserable reviews in straightforward and unpretentious language (unlike yours) that can be shared or not by the masses, and certain colorful terms (the word "coglioni") I believe only offend 2% of the DeBaser people, for whom I apologize in advance, but this certainly won’t change my way and my yardstick for judging works that I consider “ciofeche” or similar. For the gentleman who signs off as zzzzzzzz (like the sound of a long sleep born from boredom or exhaustion), I don't consider myself a "gratuitous" shit-spreader; I usually explain why: if I don’t explain it, it’s because there’s little to explain, and it’s so evident that it’s useless to talk about it (but those are rare cases, I assure you). With kind regards (and a salute to the ladies).

That the "disarming and displacing male voice" belongs to Will Oldham (= Palace + Bonnie Prince Billy). That the "sighs, moans, whispers and screams, orgasms" of "Pearl" are by Tanya Tagaq, that the sounds of "accordion and mellotron" are actually produced by the Sho, an ancient Japanese instrument, and the Cubase, and that the "spinet" is now called harpsichord is, generally speaking, good for the overall noxiousness, and we thank you for this excess of documentation, like a little teacher "Rottermajer," but the record, the one YOU LISTEN TO, is and will always be a flop. (Even if the percussion in the second track is played with a Hutu instrument held between the buttocks of the bassist's son who married the kindergarten teacher of Bjork's son.)

I agree with lemuro 100%

... and now, please, come remind me that the protagonist IS also the husband, and I’ll give you the award for "Boccalona D'Oro"...