Heather Parisi
Le Più Belle Canzoni

THE REVIEW

If there is a symbol of the more frivolous, glossy, and television-driven 80s, the first that comes to mind is Heather Parisi, pioneer of the new era. In those years, the neologism neotelevision was coined, as opposed to that of the outdated 60s and 70s (practically from Mike Bongiorno to Parisi). And everything changes; a new Italy emerges at the dawn of the years of reflux. Parisi was precisely the right face to symbolize the new emerging era: good looks and a predisposition to dance, the first of many models produced and reproduced by television.

Heather Parisi was born in Hollywood, United States, in 1960, with Italian grandparents. As fate would have it, while she was in the beautiful country for vacation, she was discovered and soon after brought to prominence by the tireless Pippo Baudo. She becomes the Saturday night diva, with record audience shares. Her most successful show is Fantastico, one of the cults of the 80s. Nonetheless, Heather also manages to shine in the film “Grandi Magazzini,” more beautiful than ever.

Her songs are mainly the music from various shows, insignificant songs, dance and rhythm, all enchanted by the colorful lights of the new television civilization. But now they remind us of days gone by, the days that were. This is the value of songs like "Cicale", "Disco bambolina", "Radiostelle", although the latter sounds a bit less cheerful to me, I don't know, I sense something different from the others, for this reason, it remains my favorite. A sunset on the beach, when the umbrellas are closed, and you prepare for the evening. This is what these songs mean to me.

I repeat, they are simple and banal little songs, precisely in the decade when Battiato was releasing beautiful albums and bands like Litfiba and Diaframma were emerging. But this is another thing, Parisi is THE symbol of the transformation that took place in Italy, not considering her means not considering that entire decade, the evenings in front of the TV with the family, the first color televisions and perhaps even Saturday nights waiting for the matches to be followed on the radio with the score card before the goals of ninety minutes.

But the interesting part comes now (since I was born right in the period when she was at her peak, I couldn't see her), because I have a gnawing thought: I think of how many kids who grew up watching her now dream of meeting her, shaking her hand, who knows how many even took her as an icon of their youth. If I had lived in that period, I would surely have been one of her fans, and talking to her would have given me strong emotions. Then today, when everything is over, which further accentuates a mocking smile. But if I had had this opportunity, I would have offered her a coffee and given her roses.