lukin

Who the hell knows them? I have to listen to them! Damn, apocalyptic folk! You're perfect as always.

bombobobobom

I remember that years ago, fleetingly, inside a bar, I heard a jukebox playing, and in the dreams of a child, the guitar was a sword, and those who didn't believe were pirates. The desire to sing and the desire to fly perhaps came to me right then; maybe it was madness, but it's the only way to always say what I want. I will never be able to become the general director of the post office or the railways; I will never be able to have a career in the evening newspaper, also because I would end up in jail. No one will ever give me their vote to speak or decide about their future; in my category, it's all people who are not serious and cannot be trusted.
Look instead at those scientists, those doctors, those lawyers, that crowd of ministers and deputies. Think that at this very moment, just while I am singing, they are seriously working on the doubts and questions that plague your mind. Go to them, and don’t worry; they are at your disposal, and always without hesitation, they will answer you. I have no answers; I only do rock 'n' roll. If that's good for you, fine; I can't do more than that.
The party promoters have sent me another invitation and said it ends badly if I don't go to the general gathering of the great national celebration. They said I can't refuse, especially now that I owe my success to them; that I'm crazy and reckless, an ungrateful person, a subversive, a semi-criminal. But what can you do? I may not seem normal, but it's instinct that makes me fly. There's no game or pretense because the only illusion is that of reality, of reason. But to those with bad faith, always hunting for witches, I say, no, it’s not a serious thing. And so it is, if you think so, but let me vent; don’t put me in a tight spot or with as much breath as I have in my throat, I will shout to you: there’s no fear, but what politics, what culture; they are just little songs. Don’t put me in a tight spot; they are just, they are just little songs. (paapaa papaparàààà...bombobobobom)

Reading your review, at the point where you talk about the speed with which a disc is "absorbed" nowadays thanks to the internet, I was reminded of a book I read not long ago that, in a slightly more orthodox way :), also discussed this: "I Barbari, saggio sulla mutazione" by Alessandro Baricco, published in installments in La Repubblica. Regardless of whether you like Baricco or not (I’m not a big fan), I recommend it; I found interesting insights, and beyond the hint of snobbery that’s somewhat present, it makes you think.

LaBrie is a soft cheese made from cow's milk named after LaBrie, the region in France where it is produced (which corresponds to the current department of Sone-na-Merd). Main characteristics: LaBrie is a slightly fatty cheese that is not aged for long. It has a light color and a characteristic white mold on its surface. Historical notes: The first certain news of its origin comes from the homonymous valley and dates back to the 11th century. The production method is very similar to that of camembert, although the aging process tends to be longer. The total production time is 8 weeks, double that of Camembert. LaBrie is produced in the homonymous plain located about fifty kilometers east of Paris and obtained the denomination BCDM (Bel Cantantino Di Merda) in 1980.

In the face of minimalist-experimental-non-classif iable, I just heard the samples... umm, it’s not for me, bore :). And I understand the reason for this review.

I also vote for a review of Psycho on Sonic Boom's Spectrum, or it wouldn't be bad to have a review of some bricks from Experimental Audio Research (E.A.R.) by the god Sonic Boom: a man called Journey.

Who has the most sensitive ears, a Coldplay fan or one of the Faust? Or someone who listens to Waco Jesus? No, maybe the latter has a sensitive perineum.

A delightful record and artist, I’m discovering them with guilty delay. Balancing between old and new, a refined and multifaceted pop that unfolds before you like a psycho-carnival of sounds among jazz, blues, and echoes—albeit distant—of Tom Waits. For me, the girl has class; at this point, I’m very curious to hear the new album coming out in October.

seen at a Heineken jammin festival a few years ago: an hour and a half of boredom.