adesso che vorrei togliere philophobia da dentro lo stereo ma invece dentro la custodia di philophobia ci trovo per qualche motivo the trojan producer series box set disc one e il verde acquoso caraibico in contrast with pink synthetic Chemikal Underground is a sort of misfortune that I did not want to color correct in one of the most inexplicably malcagati Monday morning in which I have ever come across since I started to dress myself, and I will be of no comfort cut through the fog to get to the newsagent and swings and slide the pads on the journal paper in the middle of the chronicles of the day football where the first step reluctantly from one article to another because in the meantime since my team have put in play on Saturday me of the afternoon newspaper on Monday I could hardly fuck less. leaning against the tiles in the shower while the hot water works to tear away from the skin residues lager I wonder if they are really ready to live in a world without the arab strap, I wonder if it really worth the trouble to remove the Trojan Producer Series Box Set disc one from the care of or if philophobia is not quite the case to store each time I remove the disc into the disc jacket that I put on and try to pass so the next ten years to mess up everything and then see if they are really able to repair the damage and who knows that there runs a nice trip back in the midst of all the songs that I forgot or because I have not even heard of anxiety to go to the next disc. Meanwhile, the custody of philophobia the first time I'd open diciottanni e incominciavo a farmi strada da solo dentro i postumi del punk rock e mi sembrava un miracolo di riuscire ad incollarmi a questi suoni scheletrici che magari erano solo una specie di risacca o tardo riverbero delle chitarre iperdistorte e dei bpm in tripla cifra, come attaccare l’orecchio alla parete che finiva di assorbirsi il suono della canzone che avevo appena finito di ascoltare. è un bel cazzo in culo certe volte riprendere in mano le vecchie robe, sarà perché ti viene il dubbio che archiviata una decade te sei sempre ancora allo stesso punto morto di prima, sarà perché ti fai suggestionare da delle merdate che non sarebbe il caso di perderci troppo tempo sopra o magari che commuoversi a fine concerto per una the shy retirer solo chitarra and voice is clear proof that you are not yet thirty years down the balls and would be right to start leafing through the old card to your mother to search for the number of your pediatrician, who always manages to feel under those three meters of land that separates it from the ground on which you walk.
I liked the arab strap, although because of the schizophrenic psycho morphology that inhabits my brain that prevents me from stabilizing at coordinates sound stable in recent years I have heard at irregular intervals, the latest coming out with guilty of a few months late and inappropriately mixing and matching plays to share with them unworthy of the cones speakers. I could not understand how a voice so monotonous and cavernous, moving within an operating space so small, might be able to dig so deep. until I remembered that the real class you see in tight spaces, which dribble into the middle of the prairies are all good. one of the stuff that I have always liked to hear their pieces was the attack of the drum machine and to wait for the voice and guitar to appoggiarcisi scazzatamente above so that seemed to be listening to some crap shoot from the street outside the pub while the filtered 'echo of a passing car subwoofer.
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