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Rating: What are we talking about? Mass hysteria? Certainly female hysteria. The journos are back and they won't let up, they don't just circle around Italian pop music—they dive right into the middle of it with a Spin 360° Don't Give a Mother Fuck-a. Putting aside what Tommi does, which leaves no room for any interpretations but solely for the ego—just like the various Lodo Guenzis and/or fake Calcutta Whatevers; the journos are akin to a handful of sand carried into the desert during the worst imaginable sandstorm: pure cosmic nothingness.
Our dear Tommi hasn't made an album but a very long shopping list. And as he added each ingredient, he felt satisfied:
Just Carboni ✔
Old Fellas ✔
V For Venditti ✔
Fiasco Rossi ✔
Calcutta Whatever ✔
The worst of '80s trash ✔
The worst of '90s trash ✔
Italian Pop Music, never enough ✔
Little Synths ✔
Mix-up Brignani ✔
Once the list was finished, he realized he had achieved a Sold Out... of the list, and modestly titled his album after the probable situation during his album launch dates. But in truth, the Sold Out of history he won't have; although, he might have the Sold Out of history, critically comparing with those mentioned above should never be a boast for anyone. Regardless of what is said, the benchmarks (foreign or even Italian) should always be different; playing on the radio and having cover videos of Cattelan, Savino, and the forgettable Mandelli is just proof of the project's low quality.
I'm not here to talk about how poorly he sings, because I love American Lo-Fi singers and their misery, just as I love simple, approachable, and friendly melodies, POP! But not like this, not deliberately left to media havoc and easy rhymes. It's not the time for newspapers and even if they consider themselves DeNewspapers and hence comparable to us DeUsers, they must be completely scorned and annihilated by our indifference.
And then, the only person who can carry the last name Paradiso is the great Maurizia.
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