Our relationship with Italy is deep, heartfelt and renown. So when they showed up with all of their grande amore this year, it’s safe to say the feeling was mutual and our happiness was complete:
Italy pretty much sums up the highlights of our life, really. And no, they are not only gelato, pizza and Brunello.
One of our finest childhood memories is related to Toto Cutugno. It was the year of 1990. We were still to be called young, the Maastricht treaty was yet to be signed and EU still seemed like a swell idea. Enter the man in white with women in all sorts of colors preaching love and togetherness in the name of Italy. La canzone Italiana won. Of course it did. Who the hell could compete with Toto Cutugno? No one. Not then, not ever.
One of our finest Eurovision memories is still connected to Marco Mengoni. We almost fainted when he entered the stage in Malmö for the first time. What a man, what a voice, what a country of dreams. But he didn’t win. Of course not. Let’s just repeat this one more time: If you are a very talented, beautiful Italian man in Ferragamo standing on the stage of your life delievering a song that could completely blow they jury away: Do not scratch your balls and pretend no one is watching. Not now, not ever. But Marco did great nonetheless and we forgive him. After all the king of vibrato is the one we turn to for Spotify comfort when things get rough and the fact that he later serenaded a pack of 20 fags doesn’t hurt either.
Enough of the old, let’s hail the new, but you should be getting the picture by now: Our love for this country is driven by a) a great man and b) a great suit and c) a great message. This year Italy has THREE fabulous men, THREE equally fabulous suits (and a RED pair of glasses) AND the best message of them all. It’s almost too much to take in. More is definitely more.
Also, the song is perfetto. We always crave for grand entries like these. They are like an aria by Verdi, building up dramatically until you almost cannot bear to listen. And when you don’t think there is any more passion left in the poor singer’s soul, they increase it by 50 per cent.
It’s songs like these that mean business. They are the real deal. They tell you something; they make you feel a whole lot of things and they don’t leave you until you are truly convinced. We got that last year from Conchita and now Italy is doing the job. We cannot even begin to say how grateful we are.
Italy knows their passion. Every time that becomes evident, we forgive them for everything else. It’s like there never was a Berlusconi, like we never kissed the wrong boys on our teenage holidays and like we never had to change trains at least a hundred times during our Interrail. Because it’s all great. Italy had Toto Cotugno, they had Marco Mengoni and now they have Il Volo. Who could compete with that?
Our grande amore is for you, Italia. Of course it is. It always is and always was. We already booked our tickets for ROME 2016. Now, go make Toto Cutugno proud!