Dolcefida
Crema di palle

I'm here just for you

I've already washed my pussy

Now fully committed to carefully and swiftly tracking down the potential summer hits of this already half-spent season, browsing social media and various channels, I stumbled upon this mysterious Dolcefida, a newcomer to the Italian pop scene which has been churning out quite a few playful pop flings and racy lyrics lately. Almost all by female artists. This song immediately gets stuck in my head. I wait eagerly for a video to come out and tell me something more. The video lands fresh off the press. Dolcefida is a bit less of a mystery now. And I think: but who is Annalisa, after all? The Ligurian diva, head of a generation of brash and uninhibited young singers, a product of marketing so forcefully driven that by now she pretty much only sells her image, leaving the songs just as a pretext to fit her onto the scene, pales in comparison to the nonchalant Dolcefida like a young nun who, after looking at a passerby’s butt, then finds out the Mother Superior already gave that passerby a little service.

I love “crema di palle”

don’t turn your back on me

give it to me harder

pin me to the wall

Dolcefida, then, when you watch the video for her single you find she’s playing not only with words in her lofty and romantic lyrics. In fact, her logo writes the second D as a backwards G. Hence, Dolcefida is also Dolcefiga. As if there was any doubt.
Whoever wrote the music for this track, anyway, is a genius. Because after you’ve heard the chorus a couple of times, it sticks in your head and just won’t leave. I’ve been humming it for a couple days now, shamelessly. I catch myself singing it everywhere and if, on one hand, I chuckle because “crema di palle” is a rhetorical figure – besides being a brilliantly hilarious title – on the other hand I wonder how a young singer can belt out certain things with such heartfelt delivery, totally untinged by irony.
I don’t know if this Dolcefida will make it big (cynics might instantly think that, at most, she’ll get “made big”). Truth be told, the landscape of female Italian pop has, for a few years now, been teeming with these musically mischievous offerings in this rather blunt romantic-erotic strain. Just mention the now-famous Putta Nella. Though, to be honest, the male side isn’t innocent either. After discovering and reviewing the trapper Pisciatoio, I realized that many young newcomers write lyrics worthy of thirty Hail Marys, regardless of genre.
However, Crema di palle stands out from the rest – it’s got something immediate and romantically defiant to it. If only for the rocking guitars that give it a bit of punch. If only for Dolcefida herself dancing blissfully in a candy pink and sky blue bedroom filled with sometimes embarrassing decorations (heaps of cucumbers, giant plush carrots), grinning happily when she gets showered in white explosions of seed.

I spend my evenings thinking

how much I love getting screwed

since you arrived I’m not the same anymore

my pussy’s throbbing like crazy.

A love declaration like this is something you’ll never forget.