zigghio

Well, I think Stofake's sister is the prostitute herself in Totò che visse due volte (actually a transvestite), and that's why Stofake is so upset with Ciprì and Maresco, it's a family matter.

"but I consider it the byproduct of a nihilistic and destructive pseudoculture" fake, you forgot to mention that it's also a fake avant-garde film. I think you're from Palermo and you took it personally.

no fake, you forgot to tell us that you love us all, a big hug to your sister too! oh sorry, abbraCCio with 2 C otherwise you’ll throw it back at me saying that you’re a grammar genius with 3 degrees while I’m just a poor ignorant.

but eclipse yourself worm

beautiful review for a great band, I like hotel hell a lot even if it can closely resemble the Love as you mentioned, and well done for mentioning the twain shall meet, an album that carries the specters of existential defeat of an entire civilization, and honestly I tend to prefer it even to this one, let's hope we get a review of this other masterpiece too

They had the guts to publish this crap; when I heard the title, I already understood what kind of album it would be.

a span under spleen, serpent and the realm but still worthy of praise

Mark Lanegan is one of the last descendants of a rare lineage of singer-songwriters, those who do not know the difference between life and music. Here, Lanegan had not yet developed the severe voice that can be found from "Holy Ghosts" onwards, but he already suggests the marked path of the loser. He is my favorite alongside "Field Songs." Tracks like those contained here stand alongside gems like "Effigy" by Creedence, "Carry Home" by Gun Club, "Pleasant Streets" by Buckley, or the very same "One Way Street" by Lanegan (on "Field Songs"). These pieces hold the value of entire discographies by that kind of people who PLAY at being losers, meaning they make the listeners believe there is no breaking point between their life and the music they present, when in reality everything is meticulously calculated by themselves. Another great page of American Mojave desert carved into the mind of Donj.

Here is the review this masterpiece deserved. I'm glad you finally did it, Don; mine was too short. I agree with you, it is Young's masterpiece, along with its twin, Tonight's the Night. Perhaps Rust, or Everybody Knows, or After the Gold Rush are even better than this in their entirety, but the devastating spleen that this album radiates remains unique and unsurpassed for me; it is pure catharsis, an inescapable procession of specters. If I'm not mistaken, after hearing Ambulance Blues for the first time, Dylan admitted he was no longer the greatest songwriter on the planet.

Great, I love Don, unfortunately, I stopped at their first 3 and now I have to catch up on this too, it seems.