Undying

Comparing Guns to My Bloody Valentine or the Pixies and seminal, brilliant bands of that caliber seems truly pointless to me—Axl and the gang were neither seminal, nor essential, nor innovators, nor any of the rest. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that they really expressed their life on the margins in their music. Damn, let’s be clear: they are not a manufactured group like their contemporaries Poison or Mötley Crüe, some of the most polished shit ever produced by the music business. They were honest musicians, and talented, so they deserve some respect in my opinion. I also grew up and I don’t listen to them anymore (although during moments of teenage nostalgia I find myself playing Appetite for Destruction), but I would never dream of shooting them down like this. It’s just important to be aware of what they are worth: it’s definitely not art, but it’s good music (with the exception of some songs from Use Your Illusion 1 and 2).

You know, Sfascia, I met Favati personally, he’s really great, friendly, and down-to-earth. If everything goes well, I should start an internship at his (spectacular) studio near Florence in a couple of weeks, and I can’t wait!! Have you taken a look at "thedarkside.it" at his producer resume? If I’m not mistaken, he produced an album for Killing Joke, damn…

"Either you love them or you hate them." I choose the latter. Pure fluff of the most base, pathetic, and "minor" metal I know (minor in a harmonic sense). Garbage.

Hi sfascia, 4 because it's about pankow but your writing is sometimes a bit illegible, please allow me.

Of course, when it comes to commenting on SHIT albums, everyone goes wild, while the gems and truly valuable records get only 2 comments in a day. You disappoint me a bit, debaserians... but I hope to be proven wrong. Forgive the outburst, but it's impossible to share a damn thing like this...

A little anecdote: about twenty-five years ago, one of these neo-frankensteins (I honestly don’t remember which one) came to lunch at my paternal grandparents’ house, as they had met on some occasion. My parents were also present at the lunch. After eating, this "pù," believing he was playing it safe, offered to give my mother an autograph, and she... flatly refused!! "No thank you, I’m really not interested...". Ever since she told me this, I’ve idolized my mother. What an embarrassment for the "pù"! (All true, I swear)

Another little vote to compensate...

Oops, I made a mistake, I'm sorry...

Yes, yes, sardonic sadism, I like it... hilarious punisher. The "Pooh" are the most onomatopoeically fitting name I can remember, by the way. Sometimes (when I have nightmares), I find myself wondering how these young lads would look without the wonders of surgery... brrrr...

If Jim were to come back to life, (assuming he’s dead, of course) he would trip out and puke all over these playboys, not before having written a poem about the decay and fate of the last man. Ritiè.