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Rating: Well yes, in a violent attack of nationalpopulism, the same Monarch who had written about Napalm Death, Bathory, Venom, Death Angel, and many others ventures to review an event like the Festival of Sanremo, the sixty-second edition to be precise. Why? I have no idea in the slightest; I hadn't followed this festival for six or seven years. And I believe it will be just as long before I fall into the net again.
The main reason is the name: "Festival della canzone italiana." Italian song. So our singers should reign supreme over every other component; their music (for some, it's just an attempt to make music...) should resonate relentlessly or nearly so in the various evenings. But no, modest little guests, bulky important guests you couldn't kick out because the contract was signed, shabby little guests who don't even know why they were called. But this isn't the aspect that interests me; let's talk about music, the songs, let's do them justice after some artists were allowed to perform only after the sermon of the Almighty who descended to earth criticizing (legitimately) to the right and left but not accepting criticism (as in "I have to speak, others don't"). I'm also not interested in the teleprompter-dependent host (and the sleazy thing is that many of the guests were too) or the attempt to regain consensus by arousing Italian males more than usual: do we really want to claim that it's the first time such things are seen on TV? I don't think so. And I don't even think the Argentine girl was forced to showcase herself under torture.
Fourteen pieces competing, the dynamics of eliminations and repechages feel like an age-old attempt to prolong things when a serious event would end in three nights at most. Let's analyze the performances in random order.
Arisa - "La Notte." The Lucanian girl changes her look compared to her previous Sanremo appearances, her freak tunics and accessories in the attic, on stage a more standard girl-next-door. The song is pleasant to listen to, even multiple times, the lyrics are more original than average (keeping the Festival's tradition in mind), requiring multiple listens; the mournful piano shows unexpectedly classy touches, the interpretation approaches that of an Elisa in her most intimate moments, Arisa enchants the audience, but not fully the Monarch, who nevertheless must admit it's one of the Festival's best pieces.
Samuele Bersani - "Un Pallone" - A note of merit for remaining fully himself despite the great visibility: here's swaying, carefree music, almost a nursery rhyme, hiding as usual very bitter lyrics which - let's admit it - were expected by those who have followed the Rimini artist for at least a few years. After listening to it, you'll find yourself humming the chorus like fools.
Noemi - "Solo Solo Parole" - A mix between the most melodic Ligabue music, a hoarse voice shamelessly imitating Vasco; I would have better heard it sung by Gaetano Curreri of Stadio (as it happened): the chorus is irritating, repeated endlessly (one of the worst defects of Sanremo songs is this), unsurprisingly, it gained a lot with Curreri. Noteworthy is the crescendo part before the last countless choruses.
Pierdavide Carone and Lucio Dalla - "Nanì" - The song fits into the "romantic disappointments with disreputable women" category; Dalla's presence is limited to conducting the orchestra and a few screams in the chorus. It starts well, the kid has a voice that goes to delicate and almost feminine territories... But then he dirties it, and the dull notes begin, with a clumsy verse and a really too slow rhythm: the piece wilts quickly.
Chiara Civello - "Al Posto Del Mondo" - Immediately the ignoramus in me exclaimed, "and who is this?" I listen to the piece, banality reigns as they even mimic Giusy Ferreri and Carmen Consoli. I go to research and listen to something else: Civello is a jazz artist with a decent American resume, but unfortunately, she didn't dare, she practically sold herself out, the duet with Shaggy was ultimately embarrassing.
Dolcenera - "Ci Vediamo A Casa" - A breath of fresh air in a pond of mediocrity; Dolcenera's voice is very particular; if she didn't linger on the low notes for too long, it would be a great thing. Too bad also for the drums; with someone more experienced, it could have become a nice electro-pop piece.
Emma - "Non è L'Inferno" - After the first ten seconds, you understand the song was written for her by the guy from the most famous Negramaro imitators: the Modà. A totally empty performance; you instantly feel that the piece, besides not being hers, is sung on behalf of the group mentioned above; naturally, it wins the Festival despite, as a real cunning move, she sings about the crisis as an old man. Try to listen to it with your eyes closed: the singer of Modà will appear, twisting as he usually does, telling you "No... it's not hellooo..."; it's much worse than hell, get ready; teenage girls will start singing it everywhere in 3... 2... 1...
D'Alessio and Bertè - "Respirare" - He seems, as always, struck by immense pain, she out of breath and also awful; the "song" is summery and obsessive; they'll make you hear it millions of times on the radio; it will be the nightmare of the summer.
Eugenio Finardi - "E Tu Lo Chiami Dio" - The committed one par excellence, always dressed the same; maybe he'll change once retired. His movements accompanying the song are irritating; at least he's moving: fans will say it's his style, others that it's always the same song; the chorus is very easy musically, less so when it comes to the words.
Nina Zilli - "Per Sempre" - I have to talk about the music... I have to talk about the music... but how can you when you have in front of you someone who dresses like the less depraved Winehouse and sings the usual sad Sanremo ballad of broken hearts? Forever??? Are we joking? After half listening to it, the listener's mouth irreparably twists. And since the song by Matia Bazar (revived for the occasion) is equally terrible, I don't even bother to move on to a new paragraph.
Marlene Kuntz - "Canzone Per Un Figlio" - The fish out of water, like Afterhours in their time, totally alien to what was happening in the audience, just as the spectators of Rai Uno's first night looked at them strangely. Obviously eliminated immediately, the group risks seeming like the last in the class for the average Italian and a traitor for the alternative listener.
Irene Fornaciari - "Il Mio Grande Mistero"- If we were malicious, we'd say she's here because of her last name, but musically, the song isn't even bad; it has an epic flavor that I don't know how she managed to infuse, but the voice is totally out of context. I still have to understand if sometimes being malicious hits the mark.
Francesco Renga - "La Tua Bellezza" - Last but not least, let's remain objective: the lyrics are nothing more than a sappy declaration of love; the music is overwhelming, even in the verse, though -the Sanremo bug bites again- the chorus is more than a little insistent. The version with the children's choir is at times touching. Already at his last participation, he had amazed with "L'Uomo Senza Età" (with its aristocratic stature distancing him from all the other contestants), this year he could have won, the voice is there, the music is there, the big chorus is there... Who knows why he didn't win... Oh, right... he never participated in Amici della De Filippi.
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