Carmen Consoli
Elettra

There is an exact moment when each of us must take a step forward. A moment of emptiness, of despair, when we need a sign of hope to face the future, because we are desperately afraid of making the wrong choice. The roses are slow to bloom, but there's no supernatural force we can appeal to, nor any science that can somehow shorten the waiting time: the weather can only tell us to wait for spring, the looming storm won't go away easily, but this doesn't mean it will rain forever. It's just a matter of knowing how to wait, it's only a matter of time. And waiting gives us that feeling of emptiness in our stomach before taking the big leap: one morning swallows in the sky will be a harbinger of a stunning and bright spring sun that will light our way. And if we couldn't get over this moment of pain and resignation? We must always remember that it is not only due to bad weather that the harvest was lost, it is not only what we cannot control (fate, the rain) that has hindered our happiness, but simply we did not have enough courage. But what's the point of waiting for summer only to then regret the cold of winter? Why wait for everything to be fine and then not enjoy it to the fullest? The most beautiful emotion is setting sail on your little boat and venturing southeast, where the sun advances and darkness recedes. Surrendering to new adventures, to distant odysseys. Why repress a desire? We have remained stuck, we were afraid to be happy; we conformed to the masses who forget the real value of things and often choose to remain in a cold and constant habit: decide to live a life made only of stolen desires, where one's aspirations must be repressed and only what others expect from our existence must be fulfilled.

Often to please those we care about, we risk hurting someone else. The mother who decided not to speak, to remain silent about her daughter's rape to protect the family's honor, failed. She made no leap, she only did harm: she cultivated pain and resentment for everyone. And that desperate daughter will carry with her all her life the weight of a guilt she seeks and will seek to atone for forever. Marie, through the most terrible act that a human being can conceive, the killing of her own mother, has gained the love of everyone: it's an extreme metaphor, the strength of someone who should manage to be Electra, she who destroyed every bourgeois conformism, yet remained true to her roots. The bond (the root) with what belongs to us can sometimes be a weight, other times a great source of wealth: the uniformity of modernity, where we want to be all identical (buy the same things, live the same things) makes us forget how diversity is an inexhaustible source of knowledge. Those named Giuseppina will want to be called Giusy to feel globalized, but there will always be (thankfully) those who will claim the unique taste of a granita with "brioscia," who will not be ashamed of who they are, but rather will be proud of it. Carmen's Electra in the song is not ashamed of who she is: she is a "buttana." But she is also a woman in love who wants to take that step forward, who wants to take a risk. She wants to embrace the May sun and live as she desires. She doesn't want to give up on her desires, but unfortunately, she won't find what she's looking for. The value of things once again fails to be restored: there are still too many people who confuse pain and pleasure, fear and the need to hurt. Electra would have liked to call everything by its right name. She would have liked to call love "love."

But if every day we clash with those who are unable to live their feelings for what they are, if every day we face the indifference of those who suppress their passions, what are we destined for? To deformity, to brutality, to bestiality. We have nothing left but to hope for a new birth, in a different civilization. Where those who judge others are outnumbered, marginalized, and those who have the strength to live for who they truly are can cheerfully toast to love sitting at a table full of different foods.

Carmen explained all this in Electra, confirming herself as the best Italian singer-songwriter.