Viva Lì

Well, yes, Gabriel as an artist is indisputable: how many singer-songwriters would have let go after the international success of "So"? "Ovo" is less brilliant than "So," perhaps even less exciting, but the right mix of ethno music (of which Gabriel is now the undisputed Guru) and rap is spine-tingling (that sly fox Neneh Cherry contributes to the realization). The subsequent "Up," in my opinion, is a step below: but just a step, you know...

A definitely powerful live performance, but also too ambitious: it's impossible to translate the epic strength of AC/DC onto vinyl (or CD). All in all, though, a good choice of songs and more than solid arrangements: this is the live that serves as the prelude to global success and the true masterpieces of the band, from "Highway to Hell" to "Back in Black" (the second best-selling album in music history). By the end of the seventies, AC/DC were indeed working, oh yes, they were working...

"Tanz Bambolina" is listenable, and it keeps a decent position in the charts, but everything else is an exact replica of the previous "Rudy & Rita," just with a bit more mastery in the use of electronics. Anyway, dear reviewer, a 5 is usually reserved for albums that are at least historic: here, I see nothing historic.

Come on, please Stronko, please... and come on, please, please...

Dead There YOU don’t allow me anything, THE OTHERS do instead. You always confuse the singular with the plural and then the stupid one here is you WHO IS SO MESSED UP THAT YOU’RE ALWAYS RIGHT NEXT TO ME, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN LIFE? NOTHING, CONSIDERING YOU’RE ALWAYS RIGHT NEXT TO ME.

Very shrewd commercial operation on the brink of necrophilia. There’s really much to reflect on...

Compared to the historical masterpieces of the band ("In Rock," to be clear), this album shows a tide of flaws no matter how you want to listen to it. Let's be clear: it's not a 1, because Deep Purple, even if a bit past their prime, remain superior to almost all modern rock bands, but giving it a 4 would be disproportionate. A solid 2 and that's that.

It's the best album by Fossati since "Lindbergh - Lettere da sopra la pioggia": finally the lyrics return to being more comprehensible and the music elegant but not pretentious. Very lively "La bottega di filosofia," the love song "Il bacio sulla bocca" (by the way, do they still make such light love songs in Italy?), and a reflection on life that is never trivial titled, prophetic or exorcising?, "C'è tempo." Everything is perfect, except for that unforgivable reinterpretation of "Io sono un uomo libero" already performed (better) by Adriano Celentano. The review is by Grasshopper, synonymous with quality and precision.

Well, yes, hold on tight: I saw Marlene Kuntz live in Milan (at Alcatraz) and I have to say they are truly talented, both technically and vocally. They have an energy and a desire to play that would send chills down anyone's spine: often, this grit doesn't come across as immediately on CD, so it can happen that listening to "Il vile" at home gives one feeling, while hearing some live tracks quickly changes that opinion. Anyway, I score the album: 3. I would have given the live performance a solid 5 without hesitation.

For the sake of completeness: this supermarket album (as the sharp [!?] Breathing defines it) has sold a boatload of copies from North to South like they were peanuts. And don’t come telling me that the audience doesn’t understand a damn thing about music: because, while it’s true that millions of people buy Britney Spears’ records (that's horrible!), it’s equally true that every now and then a good Italian pop album sells like hotcakes, indeed it does. "Sogni" is a beautiful acoustic ballad from the early nineties, "Siamo soli nell'immenso vuoto che c'è" is much more interesting Apulian rock than today’s stuff by Negramaro, "Interminatamente" has a lovely harmonious breath, and "Malinverno" even quotes Eugenio Montale. Come on, let’s applaud Masahiro’s courage for deciding to review this album, which is far superior (by a long shot) to "Self Control", a simple little trifle for fifteen-year-olds.