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Rating: I asked myself - what was in here - inside the record, I meant - to make me appreciate it - so, randomly, I felt important. One morning. Who or what dared, two decades ago, to penetrate my mind so deeply as to remain there until today - yes, just like that, just to make things ugly - to enjoy, even if only, really, a moment of mine, so sincere - and now let's try to understand it together, calm down, relax. Breathe.
It was indeed predictable: the big guitar, a bit of very healthy Torino rhythm, the influences of a scene respectably dead - the year is two thousand and four after Christ - and then undeservingly resurrected - and here we are in Seattle - and other things that made me feel like a bad boy.
In truth, when Microonde starts, you can already guess everything, but at the time it could be given a chance. I can understand the laid-back, raw spirit, the mosh in the choruses, well, it happens. Finished, go.
Apart from the ability to plagiarize Pezzali in the bizarre race for the strangest accent (io dò vèvoso lòdir tichè), I had completely forgotten the lyrics, one of the weakest points of the record. Which gives a lot of attitude Avril Lavigne acting angry. There is a song of mine that says "shit!"
And if the “Nirvana interval” - ReReeee FaFaFa ReeeeReeeeee FaFaFa ReeeeeeReeeeee FaFaFa ReeReeee - happens I - didn't even notice it, come on - throw in the chorus of Lithium (so to speak), since the tempo is qotsa, and now, I can't see anymore from hunger: Blood and Nutella!
The rest I remember, and it stays there. It must be said that Diegone (who now - or maybe not anymore - is - or was - on stage with Caparezza) and his associates had anticipated some other teen phenomenon that would emerge a few years later, demonstrating how little we needed those phenomena.
And then there are those times when you look at the screen, confidently move your hand to the mouse,
look down,
and your hand is on the ashtray.
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