Miles Davis
Live-Evil

Application of structural upheaval to a subject with an undefined, or at least undefinable, genetic heritage. Destruction of technique caused by an abuse of it, thus self-destruction, but self-destroyed so deeply as to reach an absolute nothingness; which, being absolute, can no longer be considered null, since it is absolute. Stabilization of individuals who cannot be individually stabilized as absolutes, but as similars, stabilizable, and therefore stabilized, in a similarity of sound. Certainly not linear but certainly homogeneous.

Electricity.
As Santana explains: when you have a heart attack, you need the defibrillator. What is the defibrillator?
Electricity, precisely.

What is a heart attack? A cardiac arrest. What is a cardiac arrest? when the heart stops. What was Mister Miglia's heart? Music. So, what had stopped? His way of making music. So how to revive it?
Electricity, precisely.

First Miles Davis album with electric trumpet, apotheosis of his pissi-pissi-che(ma anche no)-delico. But eh, the percussion no eh, Mother Africa does not get offended, "the offense" is directed at Mother America, ugly whore.

To Jazz: speed up the exit of the whoring from the whore's room. The whorer can't afford a white, a black cost less.
Slavery has been over for quite a while, and Mister Miglia certainly never worked in a brothel, nor had he ever worked there.

Translation of Mister Miglia's answer to the question "why?": - I was fed up - .
Final product: my favorite of the merry band of technically super-gifted idiots who loved to unleash their hits into music.

Nonexistent and incomprehensible review to 99% of possible readers, only the most sick and/or obsessed Mailsians, if they want, will understand something.
I doubt they want to, but that's another matter.
Just like this album: another matter.
Beware of any similarities to Tutù, even less so to E Caind Of Blù, albums like this hìvoll in laivv mister Miglia never made again.
''zzarola...