Maria Grazia Impero
Tu con la mia amica

The seventy-third Sanremo Festival has just concluded with the victory of Marco Mengoni, a singer from Viterbo launched by X-Factor who had already triumphed in 2013 with "L'essenziale", a song similar to the one with which he claimed first place in 2023, a mix of screams and romantic woes that wasn't particularly appreciated by yours truly.

On the musical event of the past week, liters of ink have already been spilled, spent to meticulously analyze the anto-phobic raptus of Blanco, the level of senile dementia reached by Ornella Vanoni or the excruciating off-key notes of Roby Facchinetti. It seems more interesting to me to recall that about thirty years ago the forty-third Italian Song Festival took place, held in the city of flowers from February 23 to 27, 1993, and hosted by the legendary Pippo Baudo, a sort of Sicilian demigod with jet-black dyed hair, accompanied for the occasion by the beloved Lorella Cuccarini (to be honest, I preferred Claudia Koll before her mystical crisis, but everyone has their respectable tastes).

The 1993 Sanremo is remembered not only for the victory of Enrico Ruggeri with "Mistero", but also for the presence of some pieces that made it into the history of Italian trash, like the reactionary mess of "In te", proposed by a young Nek (who at the time sported a flowing mane worthy of Lorenzo Lamas), and the delirious "Caramella" by Leo Leandro, already reviewed on these pages.

Among the most sensational characters of that edition, it is impossible to forget Maria Grazia Impero, the rickety rocker from Calangianus included in the group of new proposals (at the time, the competition was divided between newcomers and established artists, before some kind soul decided to let only the top six finalists of Sanremo Giovani participate in the Festival, sparing further torment to the Ariston audience).

The task of Maria Grazia proves difficult from the start, as the young Sardinian singer decides to bring rock to the stiff Sanremo stage, traditionally linked to the classic Italian melody; a task made even more difficult by the artistic direction of Pippo Baudo, not exactly aligned with the latest trends and entirely devoted to trying to restore luster to a competition that, after a decade of mime performances and horrible neon logos combined with the Totip prize contest, was on the verge of breathing its last.

It must be said that the times were different and the triumph of the Måneskin with "Zitti e buoni" was still far off; however, Maria Grazia manages to add her touch, gifting us with an iconic performance I would not hesitate to call memorable.

Let's proceed in order. The obscure interpreter from the province of Sassari brings to Sanremo "Tu con la mia amica", apparently a reject track from the album Streaking by Loredana Bertè, written back in 1974 by Enrico Riccardi.

According to statements from Maria Grazia herself, who reappeared after decades of total silence (she was immediately dropped by Ricordi and left the entertainment world), the song she wanted to propose at the Festival was supposed to be "Se ci fosse Dio", born from a collaboration with the aforementioned Roby Facchinetti and recorded in Modena a few months prior.

According to not better clarified record industry logics, the then artistic director of the label (a certain Ragni) allegedly forced her to perform the flop that we all remember, literally sending her into turmoil. The rest is history and someone has to tell it.

Let's start from the beginning. Announcing Maria Grazia is a bedazzling Lorella Cuccarini, who introduces her as the "winner of the Sanremo Famosi '92/'93 contest".

From the moment she enters the scene, we understand we're about to witness something epic. Maria Grazia descends the stairs alongside a showgirl not better identified by me, to the notes of an exaggeratedly rearranged "I Want to Break Free" by Queen, performed by the Ariston orchestra.

The cameras dwell incredibly on the beauty and almost completely forget about the poor girl from Sassari, dressed in an appalling cowboy look complete with a hat, pseudonabuk vest (perhaps an imitation sourced from the Duchesca market near Naples Central Station), psychedelic shirt, and flared jeans. Wonderful.

Welcomed by a perplexed and teasing Pippo Baudo (comments on the "nice little outfit" that "must be rock, right?" fly almost immediately), Maria Grazia appears dazed, bewildered, perhaps aware of the disaster that was shortly to unfold before the live audience and millions of Italians glued to their TVs.

The performance, unfortunately, further worsens the situation. "Tu con la mia amica" is undoubtedly a tasteless piece, a raucous imitation of Gianna Nannini characterized by overused rock blues chords, jarring guitars blasted at inappropriate volumes, and a nonsensical, almost absurd text ("I jump on the moped/To tell you you're no longer my love"; "Don't call me brown angel/I don't smoke, you know I don't smoke"); despite this, Maria Grazia strives to turn a tirade launched by a nymphomaniac betrayed by her man into one of the most ridiculous moments in Rai's history (and I would say in all of Italian television), showcasing a repertoire of jumps and spinning kicks worthy of a character from Street Fighter II.

The cherry on top is represented by the pelvic movement supposed to mimic the hula hoop (the chorus literally goes "Hula hula hoop, hula hula hoop/Repent" and other similar absurdities), causing an embarrassment barely masked by the smirks of the orchestra members and the unfortunate choristers.

The song leaves everyone stunned, Cuccarini included, and the clumsy attempts of the national Pippo to lighten the mood by mimicking the tragic hula hoop gesture do little to help (if anything, they aggravate an already compromised situation even more).

There is little else to add, because Maria Grazia Impero is immediately eliminated and does not reach the coveted grand finale, which will see the victory of Laura Pausini, followed by Gerardina Trovato and a Nek in full-blown ultra-Catholic phase.

Criticized by journalists, "Tu con la mia amica" will only be released on a promotional 45 rpm and the usual Sanremo compilation, while the traces of its interpreter will inevitably be lost. However, it will remain etched in memory as one of the most absurd songs ever heard on the Ligurian Riviera, an example not only of the cruelty of certain show business mechanisms but also of the high alcohol content and massive drug use that characterized the selection committee of the era.

One to retrieve.