Flying Saucer Attack - My Dreaming Hill (Official Audio) as a listener, it has opened many doors for me.
 
Vapor Trails "And it’s beautiful to get lost in this enchantment" Quote.
GROUPER
 
Townes Van Zandt - Pancho and Lefty. Heartworn Highways the great Townes....an idol for many
 
Trampled Under Foot-Led Zeppelin Phenomenal Rock-Soul-Hard-Funk.
 
Dead Or Alive - The Stranger (Single A Side, 1982)
the very first Dead or Alive were gothic...and really cool.
 
Frank Zappa - Montana (A Token Of His Extreme) being Sunday, it's clear that we... Zappa!!!
 
1 Hour Later

Pussy Galore - Dick Johnson

Yes, yes, I know, I can understand that the hardliners of "figa a manetta" (licenza cuariaghina) have ARN! as the absolute top... I, being much less high on drugs and a decent person, instead love this record that is less noise and more "musical"...

The substance doesn’t change, savansadir

It’s time for a bit of neo-melodic Campanian music with hints of suing and frigiezz

In the morning while you’re heading out, it’s perfect for the first two humans that disturb you... to the first, you spit in the face, to the second, a headbutt... or vice versa, no problem

On Sundays, a good and healthy double portion of everything, savansadir
 
Joe Henderson - Caribbean Fire Dance

Joe Henderson (9 out of 10)
"Caribbean Fire Dance" from: Mode for Joe
1966 (Blue Note)

#jazzlegends
 
BUDDY GUY & JUNIOR WELLS -Drinkin' Tnt 'N' Smokin' Dynamite(FULL ALBUM)
When I listened to them, Bill Wyman wasn’t there...
 
#PoetryTakeMeAway

"The journey ends here:
in the petty cares that divide
the soul that no longer knows how to cry out.
Now the minutes are equal and fixed
like the turns of the pump's wheel.
One turn: a rise of water that resounds.
Another, water again, at times a creak.

The journey ends at this beach
that the persistent and slow currents tempt.
Nothing reveals, except for lazy fumes,
the sea that weaves of coves
the gentle puffs: and it's rare that it appears
in the silent calm
among the islands of the wandering air
Corsica’s ruggedness or Capraia.

You ask if everything vanishes thus
in this little mist of memories;
if in the hour that is sluggish or in the sigh
of the surf every destiny is fulfilled.
I would like to tell you no, that the hour approaches
when you will pass beyond time;
perhaps only those who wish are infinite,
and you might be able to, who knows, not I.
I think that for most, there is no salvation,
but someone can overturn every design,
pass through the gap, find themselves as they willed.
Before I give in, I would like to mark for you
this way of escape,
fragile as in the agitated fields
of the sea foam or wrinkle.
I also give you my scant hope.
To new days, weary, I don’t know how to nurture it:
I offer it as a pledge to your fate, may it spare you.

The path ends at these shores
where the tide gnaws with alternating motion.
Your heart nearby that does not hear me
already perhaps sets sail for the eternal."

Eugenio Montale, Casa sul Mare. 1925