The Sink Was Full Of Fishes

Then it started a properly debating over the theme "Oasis' value in themselves": no way that Ilaria and I could have been able to follow all that the two brothers were that fastly replying to one another, being of two totally opposite visions on the matter, and consequently quick in their speeches, so we put our attention in Nme's pages. I got my sight stricken on a gossip: the Gallaghers were punching one another on several occasions that month...and the thing was allegedly typical!
"They're uninventive copies!"
"They just inspire themselves from the past and making it sound fresh again!"
An endless full-mouthed tirade.

That night I found myself reasoning with Ilaria about how were it possible to shout and scream the way Jill and Nell had done, due to a band! I mean, I was loving music, but a similar crusade, I looked at it as ridicolous. Time would have thaught me in being not so shallow over that illness which puts itself in any Fan's veins, especially in a Country -Great Britain- which sees the music industry contributing to their P.I.L. for 1% of it, and which feeds this hunger for myths with a rhythm which is unthinkeable for Italians like we were. Generally this leads to powerful, and yet effimerous passions, since the industry needs to shape and eat its idols, for producing new ones and new ones again.But sometimes, when it happens that a passion matches a certain edge , a momentous of culture, then the passion stays like something else, like popular conscience, like a flag whirling in the air.
In those weeks under Albion's sky, I would have learnt about passion, about trends and language and music and, oh yeah, I would have learnt about Oasis too, "OUR KIDS". This beyond all my will, or any difference that it could have made a contrary opinion of mine about it.