Paolo Bertoni – “It seems to me very wise to be afraid of happiness, in fact romantic soul prevails over every other aspect, obscure and catastrophic too, of myself”

What is “Scared to Get Happy”? It’s funny, as it somehow fits with the (most probably stereotyped) image I’ve got of you: as a journalist, I see that 90% of the stuff you write about is not really considered ‘happy music’: industrial, gothic, dark, experimental, isolationism, concrete… I often asked myself if you – like…

Stefano Pifferi – “Writing about music was a sort of teenage desire I satisfied later in my life: it allowed me to discover everyday a new part of this huge mosaic scattered all around”

It looks like a ‘listening studio’: there are nothing but records, a table and a laptop in this room! I guess you take listening very seriously, and as far as I know you didn’t give up yet in writing about music (as for instance Davide Montoro recently did). What is still pushing you to do…

Fabio Ricci – “I think that part of life lies in the acceptance that your ego can die. If it never dies, it will simply kill everyone around you in the end”

I’m interested in some particular objects among the records, like the photo of the woman, in black and white. It somehow reminded me instantaneously the cover of vonneumann “Il de’ metallo”, then reprised in “Il de’ blues”… who are these persons? They both have a melancholic expression… Wow, I hadn’t thought of that at all,…

Enrico Coniglio – “Venice is one of the most humid places in the world! Humidity affects everything, not only the sleeves of my discs but my instruments and most dangerously my old bones…”

Pretty messy mate! Is there any order? As you may have noticed, my records are not ordered according to any criteria, neither gender nor alphabetic. I just didn’t get into it… so when I’m looking for an album I almost never find it, then I play another one that I didn’t even remember to have….

Why Concrete Shelves?

I’ve always been extremely curious about other people’s books and records. Mostly records. Each time I enter a new house, I often identify the spot where CDs, LPs or cassettes are stored, I forget the other people in the room and I keep staring at the shelves (or sometimes just stacks) of sometimes unknown names,…