Dolcefida - Crema di palle

I couldn't resist. Thank you for existing, both to the reviewer and to the DB!!!
This is PURE GENIUS.
 
Private lies

Maybe listen to Teresina, when you’re tired of watching Bruno Vespa or Gigi Marzullo.
 
Edoardo Bennato - L'isola che non c'è

...so, basically, there’s this bar that stays open until some ungodly hour, close to my place.
I know I’m supposed to turn left, but I can never remember the way, because in my mind there’s always that little angel on my left shoulder telling me I need to turn right. Just to make me get it wrong.
At the Nobile @[withor]
Probably someone who, ahilùi, is capable of understanding how much I appreciate this track.
 
Cimici e bromuro

Many of you didn’t do military service, and you missed out on an unforgettable experience.
There was this guy, above my bunk, who stretched his arm across and threw himself backwards, dislocating his left shoulder, just to get discharged: and he was a fascist! Only, that bunk had just that one escape route.
Another one, short on heroin, injected himself with a dose of Cabernet.
Not to mention the guy in the kitchen who jerked off onto the pizza meant for the officers' mess, and they even asked for seconds!
And then, again, when we rookies—who had to learn to handle the tray—were made to do "The Shark," meaning we were used like a rag to clean the floors.

It was fun, apart from three or four suicides.

Sergio, here, in this extraordinary album that tells those years like no one else, is unforgettable.

"The worst seems to be over"

That’s not how it went: we all know it. congedare:
 
Fabrizio De André - Il testamento (Testo)

Even if you don't believe it—especially that idiot over there who thinks his existence has any importance—you will die too.
And that's normal: everyone dies, even me.
But the funny thing is that very few people think about leaving a will: think about it, morons! normale: testamento:
 
Pippo Baudo canta "Donna Rosa"

Apart from the fact that his year of birth is the same as my mom’s – whose only flaw is having unknowingly thrown me onto this fucking planet – this guy knew how to play piano, besides being a presenter and who knows what else, like I don’t know how many Sanremos.
On top of that, I think he was a lawyer too.

This piece is exemplary!

And how many did he “discover”?
Lorella, Lauretta (MY Lauretta), Heatera and God knows how many others.

Anyway, I think the Noble @[IlConte] would agree with me: this guy certainly didn’t mind the chicks.
 
Ingrandisci questa immagine

This is MY edition, and not because Libra didn't sell in bookstores, but because Ugo Malaguti translated with his heart.
He was the one who discovered Farmer, just to name one.
You shouldn't care about these trifles: of the three (not four) stigmata of Palmer Eldritch you aren't required to know anything, except that you are his unaware transposition.

But you chew Chew-Z, and you have no idea that that's not a drug, but reality.

Or maybe not? facezie:
 
Quella Mezza Sporca Dozzina - L' Omp Di Buri

I don’t know how many of you – besides the Furlans – will be able to appreciate this thing, nor, even, why.
For sure, maybe some dance hall musician will remember the original: but I really doubt it.

The fact is, once, at one of the strangest weddings I can recall, these two real rascals, devils incarnate, taught it to me.
I'm sorry it never reached number one on the world charts: it would have deserved it.
Here is the version by my ex-drummer, which I find subliminal. ricorda: mondiala:
 
The Bee Gees - More Than A Woman (RSO Records 1977)

Ah, when many of you were frenetically masturbating, thinking that rock wasn’t dead!
But it wasn’t true: rock wasn’t dead. It was disco music that was dying, while Lucio (or the asshole who wrote his lyrics?) sang about women as friends or the absence of pain.
Personally, I preferred Cerrone, who I found WAY ahead of his time.

But, as everyone knows, those were years when people knew how to play: Chic, EW&F, the early Chicago, BoneyM, Temptation e vattelapesca.
Blacks, whites: doesn’t matter. vero: suonare: bianchi:
 
Daniel Lanois - Jolie Louise

You know who he is, and if you don’t, it doesn’t matter: this piece is DELIGHTFUL just the same.
The line "et la bouteille she's mon amì" alone is worth the price of admission.
I don't particularly like the French—nor the Italians, for that matter—but I adore their language, also because my mother is French. importa:
 
Without a Song (Remastered)

Whoever knows the story is excused.
For those who don’t, what happens is that Sonny gets pissed off and decides to go live under a bridge.
Not because there’s any particular reason, but simply because he was fed up with everything.
He doesn’t really explain the motivation, and that’s something I love: never explain things.
It only gives air to fools. In fact, whenever I do explain myself, I get the exact opposite effect of what I intended.

But let’s not dwell on it: if you don’t get jazz, this record will change your mind. Otherwise, I’m sorry for you. adoro: perdere:
 
Ingrandisci questa immagine

I don’t know if you know who this person was, nor do I really care.
The fact is that Jovanotti rides through Resia on his bike and visits the poet’s grave and, before, during and after the concert he held, he praised Pierluigi, with whom he had been in correspondence because he wanted to use some of his rhymes in his own work, paying him handsomely.
Unfortunately, in the meantime, he passed away.

Mayors, politicians, and various other beasts hurried to praise him. This time, rightly so.

But no one thought to call or mention his brother Stefano, my friend and an extraordinary drummer, a true socialist and so much more.
But in the heart, everyone knows, no cross is missing.
 
Samuele Bersani - Che vita (Official Video)

I parked behind a 127 with Padova plates.
I have to go inside to see whose it is.
 
link rotto
Of course, there’s no one here following this very pagan ritual.
Only seven TV channels except for Rai: which I find strange.
The far-right should worship these things, where women are considered as breeding animals, but apparently they don’t like bananas.

Ah: it is absolutely impossible for me to film Miss Banana’s final erection—this year on levels of competition never seen before—because they say those on the left believe it’s degrading to women.
But then those on the right should claim the opposite!
But no.
Everyone keeps busting our balls while, by the way, we’re making a ton of money.

Ps. I’ve already explained the Japanese origin of this story, and how fraternity and pranks (male & female) are something extraordinary.
 
Ingrandisci questa immagine

This year too, fiercely competitive!!!
It was really hard to hold the selections: so we didn’t do them. We took all of them!

Let’s see if, once again, there will be the usual parliamentary inquiry.
A fucking one, of course, chevvelodicoafàre! Ahr ahr ahr! selezioni:
 
Tom Waits - "Pony"

Many of you won’t be interested in this story, others might, perhaps.
But bringing home a totally drunk friend, trying to convince him that at this hour biking in the pouring rain sent from above isn’t a good idea, I find to be a very satisfying challenge.
Especially because I was just as drunk as he was: but I had a car, he had a bike, and after seven license suspensions he’ll never be able to drive a car for the rest of his life.
He wanted nothing to do with my idea: “I’m biking home,” he tells me.
In the end, we reached a compromise.
He would take his bike to his ex-wife’s house—just two kilometers from where we’d been drinking heavily—and then I would drive him home.
Too bad I had not the faintest idea where the hell that woman lived.

I followed him up to a certain point: then he just vanished into the downpour.
Fuck!
I circled the block forty times: until he popped out in front of me, hitchhiking.
Pissed off, soaked like a porn star in heat: he said every curse in the book!

Why this story?
Because once I brought him home, I didn’t remember where I was—just two hundred meters from my own place.
It was my old Toyota Aygo that found the way home! lui: sapere: punto: volte: calore:
 
Talking Heads - New Feeling

To the Noble: the one and only. Nobile:
 
Mango & Big Bang | Non È Francesca

To the passionate @[withor]
I probably won't manage to bring him to Jazz, perhaps: but "only mountains never meet," Kit Willer once told a lover of his.
We know that tectonics disproves this statement. forse:
 
Neil Young - Heart of Gold (Live) [Harvest 50th Anniversary Edition] (Official Music Video)

Today was a golden-hearted kind of day: seven hours of exams, MRIs, CT scans, and worst of all, yet another ablation.
If I’m still here talking to you about these things that – quite rightly – don’t matter to you, it’s because the Doctora (she’s Argentinean) told me two things:
"You won’t die, not right away."
And then: "Keep drinking and smoking, please!
And if you ever do drugs, let me repeat, be sure to take cocaine which, as everyone knows, is the ultimate cardiotonic."

By the way, an absolutely stunning woman: if I were interested in sex, she’d do me. Yuk! cose: poi: imperiale:
 
Rossana Casale - Aver Paura D'Innamorarsi Troppo

As always, I overplayed this one too.
So, why am I posting it again?
Because the rap part’s lyrics are, for once, acceptable, and then Rossanina’s voice is unforgettable.
Let’s add in that little guitar over there, weaving sublime harmonies on the chords of the great composer from Poggio Bustone, and throw in the absolute beauty of the album it’s from – "Ci ritorni in mente" – and then, who knows.
Jazz is everything: you’ll get there, sooner or later. tutto:
 
Joe Cocker - You Can Leave Your Hat On (Official Video) HD

Today, at half past nine, coronary angiography.
The doctor told me that some arrhythmias are unpredictable, meaning they could come back at any time.
But I thought it best to stick to my usual ways, just to see if I've still got a few more years left to live.
You don't care, neither do I: even if there's a certain apprehension...

Let my heart go wild!
Mickey here was belìsimo, Kim don't even get me started, and Joe, even though he had stopped drinking, died anyway. nemmeno:
 
Viola
Actually, I sometimes get the illusion that someone might really understand what kind of person I am: pure cerebral speculation, I'm aware of that.
I must have posted this a fantastillion times, but repeating myself is part of my nature.
Not because I don’t realize it, but because certain harmonies—in this case, vocal—take me somewhere else: it doesn't matter where, as Marco Castoldi used to say when he was still in possession of his mental faculties.
I adore these sweet melodies, which break my heart: and one day I’ll go walking by the sea, and I’ll dip my feet in the water, just for fun.
And twelve sirens will dance with me, and twelve sirens will dance with me.
But the music is about to end, now that I’ve understood it’s the right time.

Great track by my friend Taz: who never wanted to record it, because he said my arrangement (a sort of ChaChaCha) drove him crazy, since the lyrics talk about suicide.

"Questa sera voglio camminare / vado a far due passi in riva al mare / e il cielo è pieno di stelle / di stelle / ma quelle riflesse dal mare sono ancora più belle.
E continuo a camminare / voglio vedere se è l'ora giusta per finire / e metto i piedi nell'acqua / così per scherzare / così per scherzare / e metto i piedi nell'acqua e mi lascio trasportare.
Da queste dolci melodie / piene di dolci parole / queste dolci melodie / che mi spezzano il cuore / e dodici sirene che ballano con me / e dodici sirene che danzano con me.
Non ho più voglia / di camminare.
Ora che ho capito che / ora che ho capito che / ora che ho capito che...
è l'ora giusta.

One day, maybe, I’ll play it for you, but I’m not a great singer. I’m in tune but, unlike the author, I don’t have a great vocal range: at best, I can manage two octaves.

Ah, he died very badly: throat cancer.
Perfect for a singer, right? sia: altrove: cuore: vocale: male:
 
Blondie - "One Way Or Another" (Audio)

One way or another, you'll understand why Debbie could get even a dead man to jerk off.
Not because she's a stunning bombshell, nor, for that matter, because she doesn't seem like a stunning bombshell to you.
But this one, even dead!
 
Joshua Redman e Pat Metheny Turnaround

You see, when life gets me down, I start playing this tune.
Mostly because it's super easy: nothing but a blues progression that you can play in any key, although personally I prefer B flat.

Believe me: even the title is circular, and I know a thing or two about running around. facilissimo: Credetemi:
 
Sade - Smooth Operator - Official - 1984

Of course, in the very early eighties, when you were still unable to entertain your own urges, we were already wide awake.
Among the hottest things, this little one.
Don't like it? You know where you need to go.