Lallo Gori
Come svaligiammo la banca d' italia

Four flies, welcome, come on in. Lovely are your re(imagined) national 70s musical prints unfiltered. Come flies, fly into the room to brush the strings of Silvano Chimenti's guitar, which "whistling and working" leads us into "Sortilegio". Hypnotized flies land on the record, they let themselves spin like on a carousel. I watch helplessly as they fly stuck together and mate in flight, they're everywhere, landing and taking off for short nervous flights like the music. I'm getting angry, the more I kill, the more I see. I change the record, I try not to look anymore, I become just ears, like a madman taken hostage, the music mesmerizes (me) with a mix of increasingly surprising images. I let myself be lulled, and even the flies no longer dance, they walk very quickly on the floor, they whisper in a corner, the four leaders are also there, I recognize them by the gray velvet coat. I see them rise in flight and come to stick a pin in my eye. Francuzzo nudges me and gives a grin with all teeth, and only a film appears. And the flying man fires a cannon like a lost shoe in the middle of the procession. How many delusions do we carry with us we music lovers we refugees on the eggplants take flies for musical hoods. It's all true, just past tomato. It was the Italy of ye-ye on a beach, of the shieldcross irindinda, of kissed cheeks, of mama RAI choruses, of wind dusting in the chicoried hair. A sustained belly and the twists and turns of a jazzy flute, Saturday evenings on the sofa, just enough to sip it like an aperitif of Chateau-Canterbury with sideburns. The thoughts stroll with the hand of San Marzano, the Tuscan barley, a pataphysician from Fabriano, Pier Papiro Friulano, digestive in Milan, Tramezzino in Livorno Bucicone from Pontormo. And here the flies laugh, they miss their position and get hit by the turntable head that slices them in half lengthwise. I lose my patience, disgusted I turn off and clean everything with Grey wax that makes everything veery slippery. With sincere admiration for your work fly high Fourflies.