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One forty-one, at night … can't sleep. Let's vent and expose these nasty delinquents.
"E allora giù, giù, giù", I really loved that Bertè song.
How to combat human misery – another episode. Part of the series "Thirty minutes of escape from a dismal reality"
Get Hooked!
"Why did he drink, Count?!" was the sudden question he hit me with while filling out my customer profile. Thrown there amid personal data as if it were just another question. Honestly, I had never asked myself that, but I knew the answer perfectly well: "Think that I don't even like the taste of alcohol that much... in any case, it was definitely to better endure and tolerate the human being and his ignorance... an operation, unfortunately, decidedly unsuccessful."
I was a kid, and among the few flashes of good memories, there was that bald guy sitting at a table in the middle of a frantic Milan, combating the "wear and tear of modern life" with a Cynar.
Are you doing drugs, are you an alcoholic, on meds galore?! Bulimic, anorexic, do you have phobias you're ashamed of, are you fat, ugly, and disgusting?! The only cure is not caring, I know it's tough... I could never do it.
Do your breath or feet stink?! Oh no, dear, here we enter the real drama. "You know, poor guy, my partner's feet stink"... Poor guy??!!! Of course I know, damn, I've changed my gym schedule to avoid fainting, damn uncle!!! I've noticed, however, that girls are much more tolerant of these tragedies, maybe it's their so-called 'maternal instinct'?! I don't know, but they're much more understanding. Maybe there are remedies for breath – judging by my long-time friend Angelo, I’d say no – but for feet, that's a real disaster. You meet someone, have a fun evening, then home driven by an uncontainable passion, you undress and... can't stand it??!! What do you do, ruin the moment and preempt with a "you know, I need to wash my feet, I have this problem". Real miseries... I'm happy to have others unjustly deemed much worse.
They say "Don't take psychotropic drugs for long, they cause addiction". The delirious thing is that it's mainly the "patients" saying it, not the doctors. Excuse me, but if they make you feel better, why shouldn't you be "dependent" on them, explain the logic?! – beware contradicting me, I've written summaries on the subject. A lifetime pill for blood pressure or diabetes is okay, but Xanax isn't?! You, idiot, worry about dependence on psychotropic drugs when in every minute of your miserable existence you're a slave to your wife, husband, clients, boss... damn the boss who humiliates you every minute of every day as they please?! Or, even worse, the lover??!! Then tell me this isn’t a delirium of tragic misery, damn!!!
But now let's get to the solution of escaping for half an hour. "Ladies and Gentlemen from Los Angeles California... The Doors". Ahahahahahah no, come on. "Ladies and Gentlemen, from Stockholm Sweden... The Maggots"!!!
I haven't found anything particular about these Scandinavians and don't even remember where I read something that attracted me to listen. Some euphoric lines written by Roberto Calabrò from the Noble magazine "Freakout"... at least there are two of us.
I am a fragile sentimental, I get emotional when young noble exhausted folks lock themselves in a basement and revive the word of Sean and Leighton decades later. There's always life in the garage. The garage is the only "genre" that doesn't need novelties... it would be complete heresy.
Four albums, I chose the debut. I have a weakness for debuts, normally more spontaneous and wild (definitely already said). In everything eh, not just in records. The first time is unforgettable, no matter how it goes. It tears your clothes off, the second time you take them off yourself.
"Don’t stand in my way", "Cannibal Woman", "Let’s go in 69", damn the initial trio would suffice and be plenty for the mission "make me forget everything for a moment". Barbarously catchy choruses with the three ruffians beating as if there were no tomorrow (always wanted to write this nonsense about 'tomorrow'). Then it slows down just a bit, but only because we have to throttle on the parabolic and need a touch of sweetness with the accelerator. The second side opens with "High", a piece the old Kurt could have written from the afterlife. "Five Finger Shuffle" with its tribal beat is a great track and the finale with "Clap Scratch fever" takes us back to the beginning of the record for an ending that's spot on. And thus, even an absolutely essential tbt – as it should be, savansadir – was done.
Basic garage, just three of them making wonderful chaos, solid rhythm section more than right and the guitar sound willingly venturing vs Stoner alla Monster Magnet.
An album that many will like, I'm sure. For its mission "vs the human"... top marks, savansadir.
I discover while putting the cover that it's an album from 2001, thought it was from 2011… ahahahahahahahah belisim.
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