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Rating: "Abrasions and Assorted Wheezes".
Very few people know, practically no one (perhaps not even He remembers anymore), that in the now archaic last century and precisely in nineteen fifty-nine, before the official debut the following year with the fearsome nomenclature Nicola Di Bari occurred on the sidelines of a campanile-style festival held in the pseudo-Italian Swiss canton that currently hosts and prides itself on accommodating the (moderately) formidable De-Kosmogabri(a), followed by the subsequent strictly/scholastically Pop-Singer-Songwriter-Melodic turnaround, the good Michelino Scommegna was one of the brightest advocates and miraculously executed performers of some (I'm not quite sure which, to be honest) proto-sonic middle-European avant-garde.
Indeed: you would never have guessed (nor would I if that's the case).
Amidst shimmering sounds of old mimeographs, belligerent oboes (frenzied and maddening), roaring pre-Stock(84)hausenist raviolomachines, mammoth bell clangs mixed with more elegant ringing [credit must always be given to those who kindly host you and allow you to express yourself at any cost], of proto-Alpine derivation, insane rickety-racks and clackers, Sicilian jaw harps, toponomastic squeaks and archeopteric chirps, the Good and then young Nicolino gifts posterity with what is, much to the chagrin of sound-integralists and current nauseating/bondy (NO Sandro relationship: this is not a politically correct de-review, otherwise I wouldn't have mentioned him) music-know-it-alls, an incontrovertible proof of the imposing majesty and the sound-forwardness of theArtistA (capitalized A, obviously) in question.
Not to mention the imposing/wheezy Side B. I won't talk about it (of Side C, if it existed, I assure you, I would have elaborated extensively).
O-Maggio (even though it is April) therefore to such a spectacular Miguel who (alas for Him, but especially alas for Us) the following year with a turnaround (I wonder and say, are today's truly athletic para-Politicians of left, center, and right inspired by Him? Who knows) decided to embark on a less courageous (but not for this, unpraiseworthy) Artistic path that we all know well (or not?).
Enne Bi
It is specified that such an eschatological and day-hospitalistic de-page will self-delete at 23.59 today (when its useless rôle will be finished), so anyone who needs to commendatorically comment should do so now (omnevermore)
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