AA.VV.
Golia Bianca

Paolo is a really good guy, he's always smoked a little, but he's always drunk a lot, but he's a really good guy.
Paolo is a real ladies' man with the guitar, a beach troubadour, he's someone who can play "piccolo grande amore" even with his teeth.
Paolo recognizes great music, and only great music fits into the Paolo-Cì-Eighty-One repertoire, everyone else is nobody.
In the Paolo-Cì-Eighty-One repertoire, everyone else is nobody; there are only great masterpieces, "Have You Ever Seen The Rain", "La Melanzana", "I Sindaci" only great masterpieces. Paolo has no issues with being radical chic or snobbish, if it's a good piece, it's a good piece. We should all learn from Paolo.
Paolo couldn't care less if a piece is by Brian Eno or Massimo di Cataldo, if it's a good piece, it's a good piece.

In these years when record companies are competing to be featured in commercials, in these years when you see all the latest releases first in commercials before toppovdepopps, in these years of "cielo e piombo napoli a mano armata", how can we not miss the old days of the original jingles?
Rio Casa Mia, Vecchia Romagna, Tommaso la scopa Ficcanaso, and logically him, Ø topp dô topp, debestovdebest, Golia Bianca.

Even before Licia Cogliò started messing with wallara with the protection of polar bears, even before Gianni Boncompagni became president of I don't know what association but still concerning cinema of which he's not aware even a quarter of a mace, even before I knew how to distinguish Widia from any steel, there was him to brighten up our evenings.
Him, with the bear family members sliding on the snow, him, with mama bear doing Holly Flips that was a pleasure, more than Tony Hawk, him, the Golia Bianca commercial, debestovdebest, Ø topp dô topp. But what was it, what was it, no, I say, what was it that made the commercial special?
Mama Bear at ninety degrees? naaahh.
Papa Bear with a nasty snout? naaahh.
The cute, soft bear cubs? naaahh.
It was the jingle, all completely in English, evocative, powerful, splendid, and fresh like snow, all completely in English, but with a chorus in Italian. And I am sure if you try to remember it, you will remember it, damn if you'll remember it, just like me, that even if you attached the balls to a turbo diesel cultivator I couldn't remember what it said, but mumbling in Inglesiano I would reach the point where the piece exploded, and all of Italy sang... GOOOLIIIAA BIANCAAAAAAA... senonèn llaiccafilin svenscion... GOOOLIIIAA BIANCAAAAAAA... mmwwwòòòùùùh yeah!

Thank you Paolo, for never letting me forget this small masterpiece by Publitalia Ottanta.

And thanks to Simon Price and his The Heads, who make me want to live. Dirty Water, Dive Again, Dirty Water, I Can't Swim... Let's go cazzo, Let's Go, puttana la rana.