The Bastard Sons of Dioniso
L'Amor Carnale

It is always hard to accept changes, but, in any case, there's no turning back. The world moves forward, and for those nostalgic for the old school, those times will remain only a fleeting memory, a glorious past to draw upon, a myth that will remain only mythology. Now bands are made on television.

Those of the old school are troublemakers; they are also losers who listen to just a few bands, the ones that seem truly authentic, tough, real. Truth be told, those of the old school don't even watch television. Now, these Bastards, at the venerable age of 22, can be included in the old school, I think, at least from an age perspective. Well, their idols, their influences, and the sources from where they drew inspiration are the same groups adored by the old school. No matter how much the old school gets pissed off, loudly proclaiming their prominence, their dominance on certain things, unfortunately, we must accept that these Bastards also make use of them. They play around with horrors' theaters, with queens of stone age, with foo fighters, unfortunately. Stuff that, if they hadn't participated in X-Factor, you would consider them really cool and good musicians, you would befriend them and gladly have a beer with them. But the mortal sin, incurable and irreversible, is that cursed television. A dangerous poison that defiles anything it touches. And it can be the best music in the world; you can be called Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, and even bring Kurt Cobain back to life, but nothing. What is television is shameful even to mention. Trash without shame. It goes without saying that those of the old school build walls of prejudice that obstruct Knowledge itself. If it were only this, it wouldn't even be a problem. The serious problem is expressing a judgment without Knowledge. Which goes against philological norms, logical norms and, speaking plainly, against intellectual honesty. Problems of the Old School. As for the bastards, they are certainly not prodigies. But I challenge you to find some difference, a substantial difference, a significant qualitative difference between this stuff and any Capovilla or Brondi, the highly praised priests of our local indie rock, to whom, moreover, they are inspired. I find no fault in them, except being typical 22-year-olds, rowdy, keen to show off excessive drinking, and superficial when it comes to the female universe.

I don't want to think anything of them. I just want to think that perhaps, in the future, they will grow, especially intellectually, one hopes. Now what I think is that, all things considered, I don't see them different from the debaserian lineage, which boasts illustrious progenitors, the Pixies, and that doesn't give up, however, on Gialappas and a boisterous humor that is fleeting. Like us, the same.