Vasco Rossi
Il Mondo Che Vorrei

Foreword: this frivolous review of mine was intended for a pseudo-irreverent school magazine but was returned to the sender because it was considered inappropriate. Since then, I have refused to write again for the aforementioned magazine. Anyway, this speaks volumes about my peers, saturated with catchy slogans to shout in the square, but less enthusiastic when it comes to their plastic idols. The times of teen-age riot are over guys, don't count on the next generations, you would only be wasting your time. Therefore, I entrust this useless writing of mine to "Debaser", the "Degrader", to ensure it is acclaimed, shared, mocked, and despised by the people who least degrade the world I live in.

I tear the polyethylene package, open the polyvinyl chloride case, insert the polymethylmethacrylate disc and the music that comes out is... of a material much more artificial than all of the above mentioned.

Yes, this is what the greatest jester (word's autocorrect does not accept "rocker") of ours offers us: a jumble of embarrassingly low songs, though seasoned with good musical arrangements, a fact understandable considering that our Blasco is notoriously allergic to any musical instrument, much to the chagrin of collaborators and listeners.

The stench of a flop was actually already sensed with a quick glance at the cover, depicting Our One in a chilling pose of an incorrigible rapist, and with an equally quick glance at the tracklist: it is striking, in fact, the poignant poetic charge inherent in titles like Gioca Con Me, E Adesso Che Tocca A Me, L'Ammazzacaffè, Dimmelo Te, Cosa Importa A Me, Eeeeeeeeeeh, Non Vivo Senza Te, Ho Bisogno Di Te, L'Ora Del Thè. I challenge anyone who doesn’t know the album to spot the three fake titles.

Unfortunately, coming to the actual analysis of the album, there's really little to say: it starts with the title track "Il Mondo Che Vorrei", which boldly takes the responsibility of surpassing in uselessness "Un Senso". The second single is "Gioca Con Me" in which Slash’s presence is noteworthy. At least he was paid. The third single says something about Topo Gigio and Switzerland, I must have misunderstood. In short, practically all these little songs reach peaks of such idiocy that one would wonder if it is all a huge joke or if, more simply, it is senility. The sad truth is that both of these hypotheses are completely or partially wrong: the reason for which such an outrage was produced is, as usual, prostitution to the god of money, a deity that today boasts more followers than Christianity. And after incessant media bombardments, the army is in arms: hundreds, thousands of kids and others who pose as seasoned rockers and boast of great musical knowledge, and this because they are really convinced that Vasco is the best that rock history has produced, they, the poor things, are the real victims.

The slumber of reason produces monsters, and sells them for about €20.

What are you waiting for, idiot? Run to the newsstand!

PS: re-reading it, it seemed like I implied that I actually bought the album in question. Of course, I downloaded it.