Viva Lì

Another live? No, please, no! At least this time, though, the choice of songs isn't so reckless after all. But what absences... Marco Poletti Dixit.

Few remember it. Many should (re)listen to it. Almost a masterpiece, a bit like Rimmel. Marco Poletti Dixit.

Being overrated is, by now, a glorious virtue (and not, alas, a very sad vice). "General" aside, what is truly remarkable about this remarkably curious chart-topping album? Not much, but De Gregori was still a (almost) young man full of ideas (perhaps too many) and interesting songwriting inspirations. Thus, all in all, nothing so scandalous: a solid, honest, interesting album, certainly not among the best. Marco Poletti Dixit.

Minimalist album. Too much so. Nothing exceptional, apart from the very melancholic "Per le strade di Roma." And to think that the previous "Pezzi" led us to hope for something of much more substance. Marco Poletti Dixit.

The ultimate peak (and therefore the most exciting) of De Gregori's entire work. Worthy of entering the prestigious ranking of the five most beautiful Italian albums in the history of music. "Atlantide" is beautiful, but "Festival" also leaves you breathless. And the rest is flawless. Marco Poletti Dixit.

Slightly above the qualitative standard of the last creative phase of degregorian production. A few gems ("Il cuoco di Salò," "L'aggettivo mitico"), a bit of exhausting redundancy ("Condannato a morte," "Natale di seconda mano"). Marco Poletti Dixit.

Highly overrated. Many beautiful songs, but also too many banalities. And on top of that, the usual frantic desire to annihilate. Marco Poletti Dixit.

Undoubtedly a great album. But it still lacks a little something to be considered a masterpiece. Marco Poletti Dixit.

Frankly, nothing exceptional. A modest record, Venditti, but especially De Gregori, could have done much better. Poletti Marco Dixit

Dear ones, here I am, Marco Poletti in person. I see with pleasure that you are all a bit drowsy, and you haven't realized that I, dear friends, have absolutely invented nothing. Since I've been accused of not being able to write a decent review (I messed up on the Velvet, but go read my takes on Presley or Gene Vincent), I decided that reviewing a masterpiece (at least in my opinion) like this one by the Beatles might upset someone. So, I turned to you, super-expert DeBaser critics: I went back and reread all the comments you left on the previous review of "Sgt. Peppers" and I simply transcribed, word for word, some brilliant comments from various users that I have quoted. The only inventions I've allowed myself are the sentences attributed to the Punisher. In short, what you're reading (except for the prologue and the ending) is entirely your own doing. Well, if you're disgusted with yourselves, I really don't know what to tell you! Regards, Marco Poletti.