AA.VV.
Sanremo 2011

And here is the account, artist by artist, of what I thought about the festival songs: 

1) Patty Pravo (Il vento e le rose): 5. The beginning almost reminds of E dimmi che non vuoi morire. The suggestions would be there, with the good verse and the arrangement woven for the national Nicoletta. But our EX-divine collects more declines than a novice in theory and solfeggio class. Perhaps it's time for her to step aside and enjoy a retirement full of glories and memories. 

2) Modà Vs Emma Marrone (Arriverà): 3. Enough!!!! Why do these young people always have to behave like eternal moaners and stress us with these minor key screeches about yet another tear-jerking story with an open ending? I wish them to stand out in this edition and emulate the pausiniano success. But they should forget about ever getting a lenient judgment from me. Absurd! 

3) Luca Madonia Vs. Franco Battiato (L'alieno): 6 and 1/2. Life, as we know, is made of leaders and followers. Therefore, the alien is not the famous Catanese who takes the stage when the song is almost over, but the honest Madonia. This musical journeyman weaves a song à la Max Gazzè and, with session musician dignity (but nothing more), completes his little task with guitar and voice. Franco arrives, sits at the piano, opens his mouth and the song takes off. Perhaps it would have been better to divide the verses and choruses in quite a different way. Overall, a more than acceptable piece.  

4) Giusy Ferreri (Il mare immenso): 5 and 1/2. Miss Non ti scordar mai di me is more notable for her little fish-dress outfit than for the song. An honest pop with chart ambitions. However, the chorus does not remedy a verse that does not open and highlights all of Ferreri's limitations on low notes. Next time, maybe... 

5) La Crus (Io confesso): 7. I confess too: after reading the lyrics, I thought it was a joke. But what: a flash reunion by one of the most beloved groups in the Italian music underground, and for what? For a worn-out story of infidelity, and for the usual man who, after doing the deed, wants a second chance. Yet, once the intro starts, the magic is created. Bindi, Tenco, Endrigo: the more, the merrier. An unexpected chorus and Oscar-worthy orchestration. Are you sure you don't want to stay together? 

6) Anna Oxa (La mia anima d'uomo): 5-. For the series: aridaje! The disgrace matured with the talking-song arranged by Panella in the disastrous Sanremo led by Panariello wasn't enough. Oxa returns with another experiment (so be it!), with a younger mood (oh well!) and Japanese theater makeup (rum!). All this does not compensate for the usual problem of difficulty in appreciating her voice on the first listen [at times it seems like listening to a poorly articulated aria]. And the final high notes, although not perfect, do not serve to dispel the doubts clouding a text that - who knows - sung by someone with a voice similar to Skin's might have fared well. Time for a pause and reflection? 

7) Tricarico (Tre colori): 6+. I may be an only child, but I can say that Mesolella sang it better...Joking aside, the curly-haired Milanese has the merit of composing a nursery rhyme that is not silly. Balancing between irreverent and patriotic, between sarcastic and didactic, between allusive and pacifist, this A-B piece is supported by a simple yet savory melodic line. Good arrangement and discreet faux-naive text. So why adopt as a performer the Forrest Gump of Italian pop, who can't hit a note even under duress? Think about it, record executives: think. Perhaps the teacher’s train has passed forever... 

 8) Nathalie (Vivo sospesa): 5+. And she risks remaining suspended for life. As a performer, the girl should be guided and be showcased with songs written by those who know the sacred art of songwriting. In fact, if the X-Factor alum manages to navigate her way through pitch on the night, she loses badly in the track beauty contest. The attack is flat, the harmonic progression languid, Nathalie wants to soar without even stitching a minimum of fake wings. The moral of the story: save this girl: she might deserve a different future! Certainly - for now - not as a songwriter.  

9) Al Bano (Amanda è libera): 5. Emotional as if it's his first live experience, the venerable Apulian shows his usual grit only after a belated key change. He is not Homer, and this blessed Nigerian firefly, violently snuffed out, will be forgotten like other martyrs of our time who - their misfortune - haven’t found a knowledgeable bard ready to honor them. Apart from the Arabian fills, it's the usual minor key Al Bano novelty. It's better that it was aired late at night... 

10) Luca Barbarossa Vs. Raquel de Rosario (Fino in fondo): 4 and 1/2. And here it is, the attempted overthrow of the Minghi-Canino style pop song. But the 'ugly' sweet darlings, despite showcasing a good on-stage chemistry, are ill-fated with the savvy ears of us, spectators of a United Italy brought together by melodious intent. It may take root abroad; here it remains a veiled bitterness for having lost a performer who, balancing between quality and commercial appeals, had woven one of the most interesting and long-lasting careers in Made in Italy songwriting. And of Mrs. Alonso? Beautiful voice and nice little personality. But lacking charisma. 

 11) Roberto Vecchioni (Chiamami ancora amore): 7 and 1/2. Hats off to the professor who conceals the fist but not the fervor. And he pours it into the microphone, aware of having written a beautiful hymn to humanity (and it's sometimes nice to remember that there’s more than just Homo homini lupus). A heartfelt song, prone to some understandable rhetorical echoes and strong references to Guccini. But the chorus invokes and fascinates. The arrangement supports it and...in the end, who cares if there are inaccuracies due to enthusiasm. Question: why do the more daring works on the Ariston stage come from the veterans, not the young artists? 

12) Anna Tatangelo (Bastardo): 4 and 1/2. What to say? Apparently, bastards don't find fortune in Sanremo. Ask Marcella Bella for further confirmation. Lady Gigi transforms for a night into an improbable hybrid that mixes grignan-esque melodic lines with the mysterious outfits of a poorly stocked Lesbian market. Result? Four tiresome and rehashed turns, adolescent lyrics seeking justice after a first heartbreak, and yet another attempt by the 'Ragazza di periferia' to find appeal with a younger audience. Another flop. There must be a reason... 

13) Max Pezzali (Il mio secondo tempo): 6-. We wish the famous 883 that his second half is not like the horrendous lumberjack look of an octogenarian from the Dolomite valleys worn for the first time in Sanremo. Speaking of music: Max is aware of the passage of time. He leaves in the drawer the foul language and brazenness of the early albums and devotes himself to a music analysis aiming to be an omen and hope. The marriage between music and words, in this instance, succeeds halfway. The chorus and the voice are redeemed – although sometimes nasal like never before – has passed the review of the anta. We await upcoming songs. 

14) Davide Van de Sfroos (Yanez): 7+. Agreed. Dialect at Sanremo shouldn’t find citizenship without subtitles. And let's account for this desire for Modena City Ramblers that resonates everywhere. But at least the good Lake storyteller puts some effort into stirring the sleepy audience. And he does it with an intelligent text fit for a genuine storyteller [we should have more like him, in the competition] such as he is. Salgari thanks, and with him also all those who - although not understanding a lick of what was warbled - timidly attempted to clap along. An experience to repeat.