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Page containing a review dedicated to an album featuring a song dedicated to my thoughts, to how I was yesterday but also to the face I have tonight, which is not the same as the one I had last night or at least the night before last, and also for me, who is changing house again because there’s a crisis waiting for me outside the door, or so sang the voice of a friend of mine on the radio, and I understand him too, but here, the one changing something is me, not him.
I change house (but I also change moon and neighborhood, along with the house, since I’m at it), sell it and exchange it for an engine, the solution is the best, an engine that will certainly be handy when you see us at the border with the car stuck, like my damaged and long-parked imagination, while rock will have made it, the music will have passed, not just any music but a music that is hope, that is patience, that is an eternal departure and travels well on medium waves and frequency modulation, not like that train that passed the station with a load of fruits, for those who saw it and those who weren’t there; I saw it because I was there, and I see that train pass again, just like now I see a crow passing with a silver dog, while sitting here on the beach, thinking back to the Genoa flood of '70 and sipping lemonade and mosquitoes, not just any mosquitoes but YOUNG mosquitoes, a bit like what we will seem to you when you see us dance like clumsy ballerinas, while we are not ballerinas but at most slightly crazy musicians and drifters, or at worst forgotten washed-up playboys, but it's better not to talk about love also because mom (she, yes, she knows well) always maintained that getting upset over love doesn't pay off, and no, and no, and then anyway I know, that I will die from so much love, all the more because there are people who hate me for one-hour loves and those who still look for me - and then, to be truthful, there are even those who call you only once and then never look for you again, but that’s another story and especially another song, which would still be the same dedicated to my thoughts, to how I was yesterday but also to the face I have tonight, which is not the same as the one I had last night or at least the night before last, and also for me, who has now changed the house and doesn’t even frequent the service station anymore, what with the crisis and the rising gas prices.
But this mess of a review (?) cannot possibly end here, it just lacks an emotion, and so I want to dedicate this review (!) to a friend of mine who is no longer here and who is not the same whose voice sang from the radio, who, like me, loved this album a lot, even though it isn’t even remotely Ivano's best, I am quite attached to it.
And if you understand when the game is over, as it is now ended, please, don’t throw yourself down.
Tracklist Lyrics and Samples
01 La mia banda suona il rock (03:52)
La mia banda suona il rock
e tutto il resto all'occorrenza
sappiamo bene che da noi
fare tutto un'esigenza
è un rock bambino
soltanto un po' latino
una musica che speranza,
una musica che pazienza
come un treno che passato
con un carico di frutti
eravamo alla stazione, si
ma dormivamo tutti
e la mia banda suona il rock
per chi l'ha visto e per chi non c'era
e per chi quel giorno lí
inseguiva una sua chimera.
Non svegliatevi oh, non ancora
non fermateci no, no
per favore no.
La mia banda suona il rock
e cambia faccia all'occorrenza
da quando il trasformismo
diventato un'esigenza
ci vedrete in crinoline,
come brutte ballerine
ci vedrete danzare
come giovani zanzare
ci vedrete alla frontiera
con la macchina bloccata
ma lui ce l'avr fatta,
la musica passata
un rock bambino
soltanto un po' latino
viaggia senza passaporto
e noi dietro col fiato corto
lui ti penetra nei muri
ti fa breccia nella porta
ma in fondo viene a dirti
che la tua anima non morta.
Non svegliatevi oh, non ancora
non fermateci no, no
per favore no.
(strumentale)
La mia banda suona il rock
ed un'eterna partenza
viaggia bene ad onde medie
e a modulazione di frequenza
é un rock bambino
soltanto un po' latino
una musica che speranza,
una musica che pazienza
come un treno che passato
con un carico di frutti
eravamo alla stazione, si
ma dormivamo tutti
e la mia banda suona il rock
per chi l'ha visto e per chi non c'era
e per chi quel giorno lí
inseguiva una sua chimera.
Non svegliatevi oh, non ancora
non fermateci no, no
per favore no.
(strumentale)
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