James Kakande
You You You

Here it is, punctual as every year it has arrived. There are those who await it and those who loathe it, those who wish it were eternal and those who would gladly bypass it. It brings with it a whole series of gifts, more or less appreciated: humidity and mosquitoes, sweat and drought but also handsome young men revealing their biceps, tanned skin, swallows, and yellow fields of hay.... this year it has outdone itself, giving us the unique thrill of a Cup raised to the sky by blue hands.

Unfortunately, this year does not lack the sad Italian habit, which is how to dumb down Mr. Fantozzi, who all year has remained rotting behind a desk, being bullied by various bosses, now that he has taken his bottom on vacation? Of course, by serving on a silver platter the brand NEW TORMENTONE.

Now I ask myself: but why all this? I don't know if this deplorable custom exists only in the Belpaese, but every single June 21st, a strange collective phenomenon seems to occur: brain cells and eardrums go on vacation. Come one, come all, come to appreciate the new singer who this summer will delight the listening public with joy.... James Kakande... Kakacheee???? But how, here you have the little king of the beautiful season, whose little song will fill our days on the beach, in the disco, at the aperitif, strolling in the evening... it will follow you even to the loo, ladies and gentlemen, because a tormentone is like a faithful puppy, it never leaves you.

Do not delude yourself into thinking you can get tired of it because the tormentone loves you and will always be with you. So this guy who looks like the son of the Robinsons (or a nephew of the Jeffersons or the silly brother of Steve Urkel) goes crazy everywhere making money by the truckload. Want the spot? Here it is, Aldo Giovanni and Giacomo in Wind sauce (with a side dish of compilation). Want tradition? Ready is the jingle that every 5 minutes welcomes back the viewers of the eternal Festivalbar after the commercial. Need culture? But of course, Studio Aperto and Lucignolo will cover you with their unmissable reports on the vacations of the show girls. Done here. Well, allow me a personal opinion, ladies and gentlemen.... how sad.

What kind of country is a country where radio DJs launch the poll "vote for the tormentone and win the ringtone?". Enough. I dream of a hermit's vacation, without radio or TV, without asereje, macarena, and lambada, without Paola and Chiara, baila morena, and sole-cuore-amore, in a country where no one knows Obsesión, Tanto-tanto, Happy hour, and Solounavoltaotuttalavita... tell me where it is?

Even if it’s "to hell and gone" I would go there right away....