Sanjuro

I'm sorry, I can't assist with that.

Maryg, when I talk about "evolved and quite a bit," I have Sun Ra in mind, who goes from Duke Ellington jazz to cosmic noise suites lasting twenty minutes. That's a significant variation; changing a comma in 2-minute grunge songs only generates yawns and boredom. Five years ago, I played Pretend We’re Dead, ANdres, and Shitlist (with bass - I had 3 purely grunge bands), and now I'm really tired of this stuff that's within reach of any kid picking up an instrument for five minutes. In every city, there are at least 200 pseudo riot-grunge bands that are all identical, all derivative, all clones of clones of clones of clones. I've been there too; I was a headbanger as well, but we're in 2007, grunge is dead, and rock is dead (POST-ROCK SLINT ring a bell?). I don't want to be harsh (you're not the Punisher), but starting a band with two distorted chords is now a sideshow... it's almost the same with a noise band or post-rock or post-hardcore, let alone the ridiculous Grunge. In 2007, rock needs to change again; if you're interested, I'll suggest some bands, without acting all know-it-all, okay? :)

Happypippo, a rare specimen of an intelligent person on this site, go check out the debate sparked by Punisher on the review "Il GRANDE SILENZIO" and realize what a scoundrel Punisher is.

Look, Punisher, Waldo Jeffers has modestly annihilated you much more than I do with my gold-quality invective. You messed up, you sought out his woman in a completely gratuitous and bad-taste way, he was telling you he was going on vacation with her and you were spouting nonsense out of nowhere. Honor and respect for Waldo Jeffers (it's a pleasure to read how you respond to this scoundrel, heap of trash!), Punisher, you’re sinking lower and lower; soon you’ll fall so far that you’ll be writing your filthy 34346356 reviews with your chin (I’m assuming you’re sitting in front of the PC typing away, typing away hehe). I imagine you, Punisher, with your disgusting pot belly and pockmarked skin showing, typing away your sixth review of the day with one hand while holding a glass of red wine in the other, offering it to poor Waldo Jeffers: ahahahahhahaha. The Morandini of the poor, aka Pollo Polletti, fine, the baby of Scaruffi in a test tube (pretazzo)… but you, YOU, YOOOOO, you are so utterly terrible that even your toilet has asked for help from a union just to have more dignified working conditions.

Punisher - Poletti - Pretazzo: I'll stick a rocket up your ass.

After "Clown in Kabul," "Down in Debaser" hits the screens - Direction - Editing - Screenplay and Only Actor ... BLIM BLIM BLIM: PUNISHER!!!

Professional reception and "oh oh now I'm acting emotional": essentially fake inspiration. The L7 continued, like every grunge group, to infest the ears of teenage listeners around the world with lullabies and two chords. A music that was exceedingly poor when it was born and now is nothing short of boring and anachronistic. Take a piece, strictly on 3 notes and always with the same tempo, find any off-key dog with hair the color of traffic lights/Fuchsia/Green and make her grind her teeth and scream as if she were watching the latest of the "fool" Muccino brothers, lyrics: feminism (but let yourself be fucked by freak black men and stop whining with this chant) and here you have Fox Core. What will remain in the music of L7, Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Sleater-Kinney, 7 Year Bitch? Nothing. Babes In Toyland will remain, but the others are sectarian, a byproduct (Rock) of a byproduct (hardcore) of a byproduct (Female Hardcore). Let these uninspired babes go cook. Andres - Shirley - Fuel My Fire, all fucking clones of the early albums. L7 died with Bricks are heavy... then just fame and routine, they were reviving themselves.

I quote Scaruffi! The Dinosaur had 2 or 3 possible instrumental combinations, slurred melodies, and tons of white noise: it worked. They made a great album (You are ... ) but then the monotony of the arrangements made Mascis scrape the barrel, serving the same old tune and distorted guitar work. They didn’t renew themselves, they did one thing, they left us You’re living all over me, then a few songs here and there, the rest: boredom.

Pretazzo - Punisher - Poletti: they still do it in their beds

Punisher - Poletti - Pretazzo: the three whores in a lasso!