tiziocaio

One of the best things I’ve had the chance to listen to. The amazing part is that I had just finished a heated phase of passion for the Clash, and now, listening to them, they seem like a worthy continuation of "Sandinista." Live, they are exhilarating, a ragtag caravan of party-loving, irreverent punk gypsies, a Slavic version of the Pogues, guaranteed fun.

This album is reached over time, with the disenchantment of one's life and its account. Your analysis has perfectly captured the spirit of the album and why I return to it from time to time. From this album and the previous "Boatman Call," Nick Cave sheds the guise of the prince of darkness to don the clothes of each one of us.

I was there at the concert too. The screen with the waves made me feel seasick! Anyway, I cried almost like a little girl at a boy band concert. I cried thinking about everything that this son of a bitch of a straight Jewish guy has been through, and now here he is telling us stories of humanity at the edge, stories that slice through you like a blade, forcing you to confront the darkest part of man, lived with lucidity and awareness. I cried when he embraced Bob Ezrin, who went through tumultuous times in '73 right after the album release. Because Lou is not an ordinary person... capable of enchanting Piazza Grande with his charisma, able to make us feel his fears, which are somewhat ours as well.

A somewhat haphazard review. You missed the point. The strength of the album comes from the profilic encounter between Robert Quine and Lou Reed. Quine had always been a fan of Lou and the Velvet Underground, and for him, playing with Lou was a privilege. Moreover, even though he was a brilliant guitarist, from the very beginning he had encouraged Lou to play guitar and express himself with the instrument. The result is a perfect blend of electric understanding between the two. Another strong point is that there are no overdubs on the album; it’s practically naked and raw, hence pure rock 'n' roll. The translation of Blue Mask is chilling; Lou would have succeeded as a horror writer if he had tried.

A somewhat overly simplistic review. First of all, in Glu Glu, Rino adopts another aspect of his style, the nonsense that recalls Rodari's tales and has been inherited a bit by Silvestri as well. Are you sure that "Rosita" has drug allusions? It doesn't seem to me that Rino was using any; a drink every now and then, sure (..some only occasionally, some every night), but drugs? I would dedicate the hoe and the pitchfork to certain people like Corona, to the many showgirls/models, to overpaid football players, and to the know-it-alls on television.

Beautiful awd, I appreciate the advice. I will try to get some of his books. I believe that "Radiofreccia" is one of the best Italian films, no matter what the purists say. It’s one of those films that you feel is a part of you, just like Animal House or, for me being from Rimini, "Amarcord" is essential. As for "Zero to Ten," it’s a bit pitiful, and I say this (once again) as someone from Rimini considering the theme addressed in the film.

Oh no, dear Awd, I can't agree! What do you think, that all those who criticize the album lack critical sense and, above all, don't feel deep down that this album "gets inside you" like an imperceptible breath of wind in the summer heat? And don't try to make me believe that "Happy Hour" isn't a blatant copy of other more illustrious Liga songs. The fact is that Liga has left inspiration behind to prioritize television appearances, along with music for commercials. I much prefer a De Gregori who stays in his apparent shell, puts out some albums, and is always on the road. Honestly, seeing Liga performing in concert with branded shirts makes me feel a bit sorry, not angry, but sorry for him. It takes more courage; are we asking too much? It requires a willingness to challenge oneself, perhaps with a product that's not exactly mainstream, a shift that represents a "screw you, I make albums my way, because I'm an artist and that's how I feel." Like Lou Reed, someone Liga appreciates a lot, who in 1973, after the worldwide success of "Transformer," responded by releasing "Berlin," one of the most paranoid yet authentic albums in rock history.

Great Lux, I would say excellent!

I agree with you that it's time for Yorke and the gang to pull out their guitars again and start giving us that original and dreamy rock'n'roll that made us shout in wonder. This album is thirteen years old, the age when I started to pick up the guitar, and in my opinion, it knows no age. I respect their electronic turn, but every time I put "The Bends" back on the player, it feels like I can breathe again.

A record is usually judged over time, and based on that truth, this album by Ligabue leaves no traces. Nobody expects an epochal Italian album like Radici by Guccini or Rimmel by De Gregori, but neither a record made for various TV appearances, including mobile phone promos. I'm sorry, no one wants to shoot down Liga; for me, as for many, he has been a reference point. Furthermore, within the band there are members who have given depth to genuine rock in Italy with the Rocking Chairs, but this album feels like a half-hearted commercial effort with splashes of rock, songs that don't leave a mark. It's a shame because Liga certainly has the talent to be considered among the "phenomena" we have in Italy.