piergiorgio

Voiceface,
I value your opinions, but perhaps, and I say perhaps, upon rereading the review calmly, you wouldn't say that the feelings (as you call them, I refer to them as Attitudes of the Soul, because it seems to me that feelings are something else) I express are profoundly personal.
But?, perhaps I'm mistaken, but I enjoy reading multiple reviews of the same album and the related comments; I had a great time with XeY by Coldplay, and it doesn't seem to me that debaser is a melting pot of silly reviews.
But perhaps I'm wrong, as often happens.

Of course I allow it, indeed, it is legitimate and right that you do not agree with my way of reviewing an album; thankfully, we are not all the same, and you did well to say so. On the other hand, this is a space for discussion and commentary, and you did so with courtesy. Thank you for the advice and for your attention.

I intentionally didn't discuss the songs one by one, preferring to convey the overall feeling; I believe I exclusively spoke of emotions. The album has already been reviewed excellently by another member of the site, and I didn't want to compete with him.

Mozart transcribed for guitar?
I don't know whether to laugh or be horrified.
If it's a commercial venture, to sell some records by taking advantage of his name on the anniversary of his birth (250th), that's fine (oh dear, it's not fine at all, but I understand). If this is done to convey something serious, well, I can't help but think "how sad... poor Mozart."

Dustin Hoffman was truly beautiful. Maybe it's life that ruins us? Maybe it had to go this way, maybe he took himself too seriously? Listening to him now brings sadness thinking about what he could have become, and what he could have given us, what a shame....
I heard a girl named L'Aura, maybe she can fill the void? I found her really interesting.

primiballi, I would really love to meet in person and talk about music over a glass of wine or something else. Well, let's pretend we're popping a bottle, you know, sometimes I think, = what a sadness....., those who cannot appreciate, those who cannot understand, those who do not question anything, etc. etc.........= it's a pleasure to meet people like you. Thankfully, there are some out there........

Primiballi, I must say that I have the utmost respect for both Pupo and Battiato. Fossati, a great wordsmith, as you say, knows how to surround himself with excellent musicians. He dresses up with jazzy outfits here, Irish-like there, borrowing, if not outright stealing, situations and atmospheres that are not his own. These musical garments lend his compositions an air of musical nobility that they often lack. His songs are the result of words, sometimes truly beautiful and touching, laid upon a well-structured harmonic carpet. The final result is undoubtedly pleasing; the musicians who work with him know their craft, but the intrinsic value of his compositions, from a musical standpoint, remains debatable. In simple terms, if a woman has small breasts, it’s useless for her to wear padding; when she is intimate with her lover, she won’t be able to bluff anymore. That’s how Fossati seems to me, a bit like that. Perhaps he has taken himself a bit too seriously and thinks that his padding has become flesh? Ramazzotti, for his part, doesn’t bluff; his commercial appeal is evident at the first listen. Primiballi, please don’t take it the wrong way, but this is what I think. Enrico Rava, the trumpeter, I don’t know well enough to express an opinion.

Grass, my honor was a comparison
if you remember well Battiato says
- I prefer salad to Beethoven and Sinatra... -
it certainly wasn't to compare them
it's just to say that they don't excite me much

blessed youth..............

Perhaps this is the primary purpose of music: to evoke emotions. There are artists who need entire orchestras to create emotions, and others who only require a guitar and two notes to achieve the same effect. But there must be Sincerity in both. If art is not sincere, it will hardly ever truly move people; it may deceive distracted hearts, but it will never touch the souls of attentive listeners. Perhaps that’s why, as Ellington rightly says, music and art in general can essentially be divided into two categories: Good and Bad.
Pink Floyd sometimes gives me the impression of bluffing a little; they imply they possess Knowledge with a capital K, that they are sincere, but they don't convince me. It’s a pity; it might also be my fault for not letting myself be swept away, perhaps? Sometimes I feel a bit taken for a ride when I listen to some of their stuff. The heaviness of Verdi can sometimes be truly unbearable, but perhaps it was the result of rushed works made for filthy lucre, meant to move the masses?
Dylan and De André are two poets who make music, not two true musicians. And as for Fossati, well, if you don’t get upset, I could sing to you, paraphrasing Battiato… I prefer cookies to Fossati and Ramazzotti…