Il Divino Otelma
Il Cd Divino

There is an expression commonly overused when talking about certain virtuosos: "god". It's said that Hendrix was a "god" of the guitar, Pastorius a "god" of the bass, Bonham a "god" of the drums, Emerson a "god" of the keyboards, and we wait to find out who the "god" of the kazoo is. Enough already!

To counter all you ugly unbelievers dedicated to reversing magnetic tapes to hear the latest news from the afterlife, a god himself comes into play. Yes, because god exists and he also has bad taste in dressing: he goes by the name of Il Divino Otelma.

"First Theurge of the Church of the Living, Grand Master of the Theurgic Order of Elios, Count of Quistello, Commander of the Order of St. George in Carinthia, Florentine Academic, doctor of Political Science, History and Historical-Religious Sciences, Magnificent Rector of the European Academy of Esoteric Studies, European President of the Ordre des Occultistes d'Europe, national president of the Order of Italian Occultists, the Italian Center for Astrological Studies and the Italian Astrological-Occultist Union, Source of Life and Salvation, Dispenser of Archetypal Truth, Light of the Living".

This is the sober and never-too-modest presentation that Count Doctor Marco Amleto Belelli gives of himself (or rather: Themselves) to immediately make us miserable mortals understand that we are not dealing with the usual fortune-teller, but rather in the presence of a character of a completely different caliber. He has reincarnated for the seventh time in Genoa in 1949 after being over the centuries Pharaoh, a priest in Atlantis and ancient Rome and has come to our dark times to bring truth, wisdom and wealth (his own). And why not a bit of dancing music as well?
The record which I am about to weave my obsequious and devoted praise has already been reviewed, but a five-word review (as much as I totally agree with it) does not do due honor to such an author. A character who in his current earthly life has managed to deserve elevation to the national altars for his undoubted Italian virtues aimed at munificent acts such as, for example, tax evasion (a "final" sentence for acts committed during a period when the so-called "activity" of wizard was not at all regulated, then revoked by a charming law of guess who) and defrauding the incapable (another final conviction; what can you do: such activity, in Italy, is a monopoly of the Catholic Church^TM). The Divine loves us: he wants to reopen the brothels and preaches his Word among the plebeians, does not disdain restaurants, taverns, discos, village fêtes, gay pride parades, Maurizio Costanzio shows and good Sundays; he has disavowed the authority of such Karol Wojtyla, "Polish wizard" (cit.) who proclaimed himself representative of God on earth without having had a license from Him, who of course IS God.

How to make our lives happier and simultaneously fund his Cult (without hypocritically putting our hands in our pockets like the eight per thousand) if not with a nice record? Here comes our beloved Otelma, removing his dazzling Bishop-On-Acid-Looking Headgear-Cover-That-Looks-Like-An-Aluminum-Foil, enters the recording studio, encircles his rubicund head with headphones, and records, for the utmost joy of his faithful, his first album: "Il Cd Divino", year 2006 of the Common Era.
Enough with Gregorian chant and with the out-of-tune and underhand guitars of papaboys, here we dance! This modern third millennium canticle begins with a pompous and epic introduction plagiarized from the "Back to the Future" theme to continue with the main highlight of the batch: "Prendi la Fortuna". The song deserves some attention and was even proposed and inexplicably rejected at Sanremo. It contains another formidable semi-plagiarism (an epic "uacciuariuari" reminiscent of Fantozzi) and sounds vaguely like something heard before but is catchy, appealing, and all in all within the canons of certain Sanremo proposals if only it weren't sung by the divine voice of Belelli, which, to be barely presentable to a deaf audience, is heavily modified with the vocoder (present, moreover, throughout the record). Such a track has been piously exploited for a revolutionary method of financing the Otelmian cult, making one envious of the aforementioned eight per thousand: Il Divino Otelma's downloadable mobile phone ringtone on the net. The rest of the album is a nonsensical delirium of proclamations and Otelmian rituals perfectly in line with the artist's sober image: ranging from the solemn rite of sexual potency with a very loud bass in the background, namely one of the most "maranza" pieces I’ve recently come across ("Potenza Sessuale 3000"), to the sulfurous sermon of "L'Inferno Siamo Noi", passing by other small musical pearls.

Among the noteworthy ones, I point out "Ti Infilo una Candela Rossa" where our Otelma (always on a substantial techno base) unravels a sort of a ten commandments of the acid woman ("Don't make me angry, don't contradict me, don't be late, don't always hang out with friends, don't always play billiards, don't go to the match without me, don't arrive at dawn saying you've been working, don't snore like a trombone, don't dawdle" etc.) threatening those who slip up with sticking a red candle (“I will stick you with a red candle! Where? Where?”) and addressing them with charitable epithets like "filthy little freak", "putrid trash", "dog’s booger", "slimy drunkard", "frustrated impotent", "total nothingness". But our darling doesn't limit himself to quasi-disco-club songs: we also have the asthmatic crisis rap ("Piano Piano"), the summer sparkling piece ("Il Tormentone") which simply isn't his (it's by the Asti group "Passi Falsi") but where Il Divino makes a cameo (two seconds, four words of number), the dragging slow and the ballroom dance. The slow in question is "La Ballata della Coniglietta Rosa" an absurd ballad where the horrible voice of Otelma wins his small war with the vocoder resulting more tedious than ever by intoning, or better, misstating a text that recounts the courtly love and subsequent sexual approach between two bunnies, a text that will doubtlessly make you exclaim "What the hell am I listening to?". The ballroom dance, on the other hand, is "Il Gelato": typical accordion accompaniment for lyrics with easy double entendres where the creamy ice cream stands in for something else ("It has two balls, it has a nice long preferred cone… a bit soft, a bit hard, you're sure to like it, it has the shape of a torpedo… all it has taken in your mouth, it's so good, you pay it by weight… yes madam, you understand that a single finger is not enough, you want it all for yourself, you won't let go because if you try it’s the best there is… some lick it, some suck it and the whole tub swallowed, large and long, desired, it’s all yours: get the ice cream").

Catholic Church^TM and Radio Maria against Il Divino Otelma and his grezzo-disco-music, the choice is yours. Vote, vote, vote! And may the stars be with you: "Utor kalem, itor ausim, olim peror, Otelma isi tau".