Jaga Jazzist
Starfire

THE REVIEW

Excuse me.

But if you only have one beer in the fridge, the one you grab when you get home, you don’t even start preparing dinner before you’ve already opened it.
You open it. You finish it while you're cooking, and then? While you're eating? What do you drink? Water!

I get it; you want the beer. But you’ve already drunk it. It was the last one. And you’re left with water. Just take the water.

It’s not my fault that I’m here writing this review. All the beer on the site is spent elsewhere, and you're left with water, what can I say. Sorry.

And then he reminded me of this.
But do I really have to write about it? Seriously? You’re practically asking me to make fun of you. To rack my brain to find the words to say nothing, to read nothing and think -well, in the end, you didn’t say anything-. No, I’ll avoid that.

Seriously, what do you expect? Let’s go through the points. The group's history? My impressions? The Genre? The influences? We’re in the new review wave, there’s the internet, there are other reviews, there’s peer-to-peer, and you really think I’d come along: AH BAH BO BABE'! BEH BEH! BEh! BOH! Baaaaaaa beh beh ABOBA BE! What a Dream Acid Combo! And then piiiiirlo who touches it

No, it's not the case; to each their own, and if you don’t like it, we can still have a beer, if you offer it to me please.

This album is beautiful you know.