Sanremo 2026

It's the first time in the history of the Sanremo Festival that the artistic director and host of the following edition is announced already during the final night of the previous one. Carlo Conti was right to step aside, having managed to drag the event back into the grip of all the clichés that defined it for decades: an uninteresting lineup, on average mediocre songs (so much so that the cover night turns out to be by far the best), the mainstream neomelodic sound that ultimately triumphs over the handful of less predictable entries, and even the guests leave little or nothing behind, except for a minute and a half of extraordinary Alicia Keys.

The only real "jolts" come from the kiss between Levante and Gaia, from a few slightly more low-cut outfits, from a Sandokan stirring up female hormones, from TonyPitony (he's the most anticipated character), and from the announcement of next year's artistic director, none other than the much-rumoured Stefano De Martino. Best of luck to him. And it's a shame for the super-tanned Carlo Conti: 2025 hadn't gone badly for him, and he certainly deserves credit for tightening up the Festival's pacing. Unfortunately this time there's very little worth salvaging: we discuss it in the report cards prepared by our editorial team. 

(Claudio Lancia)

Arisa – Magica favola

Arisa returns to the Ariston oddly on tiptoe, given that her mission is simply not to fail again after the questionable outing with "Potevi fare di più", nomen omen for a song that passed rather unnoticed in 2021. To pull it off, she enlists the pen of her ex-boyfriend Giuseppe Anastasi, the one behind "Sincerità" and "La notte", no less — an author of considerable prestige on the Sanremo stage and beyond. The song, however, is a typically saccharine ballad, almost a little love song fit for a Disney film, crafted to charm the Ariston crowd but which, on the whole, adds absolutely nothing to an already well-worn melodic repertoire that will probably do wonders for a while on Radio Subasio, but certainly not on streaming platforms, where this kind of song reached peak saturation quite some time ago. She sings well, no question there. But that's not really the point: how much longer will it be worth churning out songs that sound like a meeting between Spagna and Massimo Di Cataldo?

Score: 5

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Bambole di Pezza – Resta con me

For the first time, an all-female band takes the Sanremo stage, marking a comeback after their brief run as a punk-rock flash in the pan a few years back. The slightly Virgin Radio-ish feel of "Resta con me" doesn't overshadow a genuinely energetic performance. They're at their best during cover night, when they welcome Cristina D'Avena for a highly personal, guitars-blazing version of "Occhi di gatto". Midway through, a fragment of Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love" pops up, and it's exactly in those twenty seconds that Bambole di Pezza prove they can play, sing, and fearlessly tackle an untouchable classic, one that would intimidate even the shrewdest of performers. One of the few genuinely "alternative" entries of this edition.

Score: 7

(Claudio Lancia)

Chiello – Ti penso sempre

At a time when guitars are an endangered species, this somewhat post-punk song puts one front and centre, a welcome variation amid the deadly dull evenings of the Conti-bis Sanremo. Unfortunately it struggles to take off: the guitar-bass-drums energy dissolves into strings, in a chorus that's not exactly an explosion, sung decently but without any real spark by a slender figure whose hair looks like it's straight out of a manga.

The love-song lyrics don't help either, with a bit of dubbing-speak ("fottuto letto") and a twist that arrives after a handful of seconds ("Voglio disinnamorarmi"), which then loses all its capacity to surprise. Chiello has already accustomed us to certain dramatic excesses, somewhat adolescent despite his being 26, but "Lasciami sciogliere nell'agonia" is such an overwrought line it would sound excessive even in a gloomy doom-metal track, let alone in this harmless pop-rock number. It finishes 25th, an overly harsh punishment.

Score: 5.5

(Antonio Silvestri)

Dargen D'Amico – Ai ai

What a mess this Sanremo turns out to be for Dargen: the idea of combining rhythm and message, through that mix of nostalgia and fun that won over the public with "Dove si balla", has by now gone flat on his third appearance at the Festival. He plays along with it a little himself, opening as if it were a piano ballad before, terrifying everyone, suddenly launching into a danceable pop-rap that draws at best a half-convinced smile when it references the absurd story of Carlos Raposo, the legendary footballer who at 26 wrapped up a career built on a thousand excuses not to play. Compared to the past he sings a bit more, and it shows, since here and there he struggles to stay in tune. The artificial intelligence angle is a pretext, the message of peace is decidedly vague: truly the bare minimum from one of the most creative lyricists we have in Italy, but that stage is known to blunt and flatten (almost) everyone. The most memorable thing is the kimono-parquet outfit of opening night, not exactly a good sign. A harsh verdict from the final ranking, which sees him sink to 27th place, just above Elettra Lamborghini.

Score: 5

(Antonio Silvestri)

Ditonellapiaga – Che fastidio!

The organisers of Miss Italy threatened legal action over the title of her upcoming album. But she couldn't care less, and on opening night she's not afraid to be the very first to take the stage, a genuine challenge given that her song is far from politically correct — and the Sala Stampa jury immediately places it among the top five. Margherita hits the Festival like this edition's biggest storm, the Lucio Corsi of 2026, and, just to make sure nothing is missing, she's the most anticipated presence at the duets night, when together with TonyPitony she delivers a spot-on cover of the evergreen "The Lady Is A Tramp". And they take the win home with them: not bad at all! It's all too easy to predict "Che fastidio!" will be among the biggest earworms of the coming months. Carolina Bubbico conducts the orchestra. Irresistible energy. She closes in triumph, on the podium, with a thoroughly deserved third place in the general ranking, plus the "Giancarlo Bigazzi" Award for best musical composition.

Score: 7.5

(Claudio Lancia)

Elettra Lamborghini – Voilà

For some time now Elettra has been a TV personality as questionable as she is genuinely likeable. She has a kitsch flair all her own that isn't unpleasant; she's certainly no professional singer, and "her" songs come in handy for entertainers and group dances at summer camps. Lamborghini returns to Sanremo with a song that pays tribute to Carrà right from the opening and then in the "tutti giù per terra"-style chorus, but one so harmless it's already forgotten a hundred seconds after hearing it. There's a boldness, and in particular a stubbornness, that ought to be rewarded at least on paper, but the level is too low, and the Ariston, despite this edition of the Festival's poor overall quality, is never just a rest stop.

Score: 4

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Eddie Brock – Avvoltoi

There used to be a basic sanitary filter that kept inexperienced singers off the Ariston stage; now instead we have Eddie Brock. He perfectly represents Conti's clumsy attempt to grab hold of the young audience that Amadeus had managed to win over much more organically: a distinctly fleeting whiff of TikTok, handed a stage of enormous importance for our mainstream.

He comes across as the uncle who's had too much to drink at a wedding and grabs the karaoke mic, screaming like a madman a set of lyrics worthy of vintage Marco Masini. Unrequited love becomes an excuse to insult the other suitors ("that man who's worth nothing") and slyly brand her a tramp ("it's easier for you to strip off/ than to bare your heart"), which he, magnanimous, lets her cry out on his big virile chest ("then you come back to me to cry on my chest"). A somewhat toxic little drama ("I bite my tongue until it bleeds"), dressed up with a predictable arrangement of brooding verses and blaring choruses, clogged up by the orchestra. If the first night was a disaster waiting to happen, with missed notes and shaky pitch, the following performances confirm it wasn't just an unlucky one-off. There's even a "na na na na na na": nauseating enough to warrant a call to poison control. A thoroughly deserved last place.

Score: 2.5

(Antonio Silvestri)

Enrico Nigiotti – Tutte le volte che non so volare

Somewhere between Vasco Rossi and Francesco Gabbani, this navel-gazing, mopey little reflection, bloated with childish rhetoric about "monsters" and "flights", is delivered by Nigiotti with misty eyes and an intensity that occasionally veers into the look of someone who wants to punch you. It aims straight for the heart, trying to win us over with a flaunted fragility that clashes with a physique that's frankly intimidating. No urinating relatives this time, thankfully, but the song still isn't there: this melancholy is far too predictable, a mush of tears and emotion lacking any story to justify it. In memory of "Nonno Hollywood", it becomes the ideal moment to go take a leak during the endless nights of the second Conti edition.

Score: 4

(Antonio Silvestri)

Ermal Meta – Stella stellina

Judging by those who heard the previews, it was supposed to be some kind of reggaeton; instead Dardust blended Mediterranean sounds with electronics to teleport Ermal Meta to the Middle East. And they've already got enough problems of their own.

Opened by the verses of a children's nursery rhyme, it's a song about war and dead children that does everything it can to catch the listener off guard: no sooner have you lowered your defences, lulled by a folksy little dance, than it stabs you with merciless lines like "But what was there isn't there anymore/ You're no longer there", "Oh, my little girl, the night is black, black" or "In the evening wind, you'll be there too".

An indigestible blend of the childish and the tragic, somewhat danceable, delivered awkwardly, with an inexplicable moment where he launches into vocalizations worthy of a bargain-bin muezzin. An emotional roller coaster, or simply a contraption held together by sly moral blackmail. The song is supposedly about Gaza, but you need the patience of a saint to hunt down the clues to this geolocation: perfectly in keeping with a Sanremo that steers clear of any theme that might even remotely prove divisive.

It's put forward as the winner of the newly instituted "Cristicchi Cup", the prestigious award reserved for whoever delivers the most pathetic Sanremo song of the year, turning a respectable subject into an opportunity to grab the fleeting fame guaranteed by the Ariston. The other contender, Serena Brancale, can't compete with the closing lines sung staring straight into the camera, with the most intense of gazes: “Non ti ho dimenticato/ Aspetto il tuo ritorno/ Come le farfalle/ Hai vissuto solo un giorno”.

Score: 4.5

(Antonio Silvestri)

Fedez & Masini – Male necessario

Access to the penthouse suite of egotism can only be granted by referencing yourself in a Sanremo song, as Fedez does here with a few verses of biblical inspiration: all we needed was for him to compare himself directly to Jesus.

This song is a half-hearted admission of guilt from two wounded men. It opens with a whiny rap, then Masini belts it out as usual while Fedez raps like it's still 2003. All been heard before, all been seen before, tedious if not outright irritating.

The climax has the two of them singing in unison, a surreal little tableau: a bearded, purple-faced sixty-year-old messing up the hair of a thirty-six-year-old who's been at odds with pitch since his youth with his high notes.

You'd be tempted to call it a passive-aggressive song ("Nel frattempo giuro mi puoi odiare"; "E ringrazierò il passato/ E chi mi ha condannato") but it's really just very cunning: it says and doesn't say, like people who apologize by opening with "to anyone who may have felt offended...". The audience adores them, but given how elections are going in half the world, I wouldn't call that something to boast about. Someone out there will get platitudes like "Ci ho messo una vita per sentirmi vivo" tattooed on their ribs, because there's no limit to how bad it can get. The title is a warning to us listeners: apparently we deserve it.

They make it into the final five, and suddenly the prospect of any of the other four winning feels like a desperate hope. Thankfully, it stops at fifth place.

Score: 4

(Antonio Silvestri)

Francesco Renga – Il meglio di me

Surprisingly turned into the Al Bano of his generation, every one of his appearances is a tsunami of endlessly stretched vowels. This time, though, the performance works better than in recent outings, thanks to a more dynamic build. He's yet another man apologizing on Italy's most famous stage ("Perdona il peggio di me, il peggio di me, il peggio di me"), gripping the microphone hard especially in the finale. He's clearly very pleased with himself, so much so that you get the impression he's not smiling at us but at some mirror just out of frame. It's hard to imagine a reason to listen to this song outside this week of musical hostage-taking, unfortunately, unless you're suddenly running low on "A"s and "E"s. Relegated to the lower half of the ranking, but knowing him, he'll try again.

Score: 5.5

(Antonio Silvestri)

Fulminacci – Stupida sfortuna

Anyone who discovered Fulminacci a few years back, when many in the Rome scene pegged him as the most natural heir to Daniele Silvestri (a trace of that can still be felt in the folds of "Stupida sfortuna"), will likely be somewhat disappointed by an ultra-melancholy song and a slightly subdued performance. The young singer-songwriter dares little to nothing, missing a great chance to leave a real mark. Fulminacci stays a bit stiff even when he chooses to come down and sing among the audience. Nor does it land much better when he brings journalist Francesca Fagnani on board for "Parole Parole", a role-reversed duet that doesn't fully come off. He conducts the Golden Years orchestra. Full consecration will have to wait for next time, but for now he grabs a solid seventh place in the general ranking, plus an even more significant Critics' Award "Mia Martini".

Score: 6

(Claudio Lancia)

J-Ax – Italy starter pack

The title already gives away what the song delivers, which is that mix of complicit and slightly irritating social critique that J-Ax has been peddling for too many (too many!) years. To give you an idea, the man has the insight to offer up lines like "Sto paese lo capisci da un cantiere/ Cinque dicono che fare, uno solo che lo fa".

What makes the difference, at least on the first watch, is the colorful, slapdash spectacle thrown together onstage, somewhere between a country fair and a rather sorry circus. The second time round, though, it's already seen it all before: like a joke, if you repeat it, it stops being funny.

Opened by handclaps and a violin, it fills up with banjo and cheerleaders, then collapses into the chorus and throws everything into chaos with a pernicious “pappapparappa”: cavities would be preferable. It uses country as a pretext to actually play a noisy pop song, which he raps wearily or shouts as best his throat allows, which is to say badly. Commendable is the honesty of calling it “a bad song”: hard to disagree.

Score: 5.5

(Antonio Silvestri)

LDA and AKA 7even – Poesie clandestine

On paper a disaster in the making, but instead they approach the stage with lightness, having fun and even being fun to watch. They bring the song to life, a slightly latin-tinged pop-rap with percussionists onstage, dancers, and good chemistry. They're young, in the most positive sense of the word: they can still grow, drawing on the enthusiasm of someone already happy just to be competing at the Ariston. “Bella da farmi mancare l’aria/ Tu sei Napoli sotterranea” tickles the ever-so-measured Neapolitan pride and is one of the few original images of this edition. The perfect soundtrack for a high-school class trip to the city of Partenope.

Score: 5

(Antonio Silvestri)

Leo Gassman – Naturale

He whispers, winks, fidgets, strains his voice while tormenting us with this dripping eyeliner and a message dangerously close to a red flag: “Sei più bella al naturale”, advice you'd hear a lot in domestic violence support centers across Italy. Still, he knows how to move onstage and steers the ballad, full of contrasts between soft and loud, to its predictable destination. No surprises were expected, and rightly so. As with so many others, the question stands: did we really need to pad this bloated field out to 30 contestants just to make room for forgettable songs like this one? A thoroughly deserved twenty-eighth place.

Score: 4

(Antonio Silvestri)

Levante – Sei tu

You have to be quite the masochist to come back to radio with a decent little song like “Niente da dire”, which in its own way recalls Levante's earliest days, back when she wasn't yet a novelist churning out harmless little books — think Chiara Gamberale, to give you an idea — a talent-show judge with a sharp, poisonous bite, and above all a kind of stuck-up influencer, and then to show up again at the Ariston with something as saccharine as “Sei tu”, which virtually outdoes even Kekko of Modà at the height of a delusion of melodic omnipotence. Levante is proof of how a talented singer-songwriter with real pop potential can end up swept away by a success that, however fleeting, sadly and permanently changes your soul. Your musical soul, that is.

Score: 4.5

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Luchè – Labirinto 

Luchè wrote the history of Neapolitan rap with Co'Sang, then at a certain point launched a solo career full of highs and rock-bottom lows, dissing tracks released well past their sell-by date, ship's logs from a cursed rapper who's seen it all and then some. He arrives at Sanremo in the wake of Geolier, the enfant prodige of Neapolitan hip-hop, hoping to catch the attention of an audience unaware of his past glories. He does it with a song co-written, among others, by Davide Petrella and Rosario Castagnola, two heavyweights of the new wave of Neapolitan pop and beyond. “Labirinto” is a solid pop ballad, vaguely mystical in the chorus and just afflicted enough. The trouble is that Luchè simply can't sing, and at the Ariston, certain things are, quite rightly, never forgiven. Despite the objective mediocrity of his vocal performance, the song manages to win over a press room that's growing ever more embarrassing in its judgments, bewitched as it is by overblown press releases and cozy dinners with record executives and PR people of the moment. Meanwhile, younger viewers at home, called upon directly by Geolier on social media, rush en masse to vote for him. It might well do well on the radio, but there'll always be that lingering curiosity to hear it for the first time sung by someone else. Pupo would do just fine. Even Drupi, for that matter.

Score: 5

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Malika Ayane – Animali notturni

Let's throw a bit of Sorrenti into the mix, since summer's just around the corner, Malika must have thought when she decided to return to the Festival. “Animali notturni” (which is also the name of a brand Ayane is the face of, an “equine” coincidence, to borrow Eduardo's phrase, enough to send the top brass at Via Teulada into a fit) is a song that seems to have come straight out of some B-movie from the seventies, back when so many acts aimed to somehow emulate Alan and his signature hits. Malika, being on paper an operatic-trained singer, strolls up to the mic with a cheerful track like this, has fun, and even dances. What's missing, though, is that certain something — that surprising melodic twist, to be precise — that would turn the song from a throwaway tune into something with more substance.

Score: 5.5

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Mara Sattei – Le cose che non sai di me

Despite being a millennial, she sings a classic ballad, and pulls it off best precisely when she moves away from the lower register. In the most middling Festival of recent years, she floats from night to night without ever standing out, without leaving behind a single memorable detail, phrase, or moment. Not even having Thasup on the writing credits helps much, since the song settles for the same vocal leaps we've heard a thousand times, lazily propping up one of the most predictable romantic dedications around. "Ma quanto è bella la follia?" sends Basaglia's blood pressure up. Second-to-last, but only because Eddie Brock is still fiercely guarding thirtieth place.

Score: 4

(Antonio Silvestri)

Maria Antonietta & Colombre – La felicità e basta

The only true representatives of Italy's indie scene, and a couple in real life too, Maria Antonietta and Colombre bring the same breath of fresh air that Colapesce e Dimartino brought a few years back with "Musica leggerissima". On the first night, Maria Antonietta shows up in an outfit that perfectly recreates the one worn by Nada at the 1969 edition, when at just 15 she placed fifth with "Ma che freddo fa". "La felicità e basta" sounds like one of the many shamelessly pop songs by Baustelle, the kind with killer choruses that lodge themselves in your head, proof of just how much influence Francesco Bianconi has on Italian songwriting today (traces of it can even be found in Patty Pravo's song). Maria Antonietta and Colombre bring their own instruments onstage, because they don't want to be seen as mere performers but as musicians. A covers night with no particular thrills, joining Brunori Sas to pay tribute to Jimmy Fontana's "Il Mondo". In the end they thank everyone: after years of hard graft, it was a truly great week for them. Now it's off to fill live clubs all over Italy.

Score: 8

(Claudio Lancia)

Michele Bravi – Prima o poi

What do gorgonzola, anchovies, liver, oysters and Michele Bravi have in common? They're all acquired tastes, meaning things you come to appreciate with time and experience. The difference is that with this androgynous-toned singer, dressed like some nobleman out of an overly mannered gothic novel, we're not quite there yet: maybe it'll take another three or four Sanremos. The song, in fact, is quickly forgotten after every listen, leaving mostly the impression of a gifted singer, in his own peculiar way, in service of a dramatic and intense song that's just a bit too banal.

Score: 4

(Antonio Silvestri)

Nayt – Prima che

A nocturnal mood, a sound that looks toward trip-hop, Nayt is hugely loved by younger listeners, but on Tuesday, making his absolute debut on the Ariston stage, he's clearly gripped by nerves that leave him a bit stiff. No particular spark on duets night either, when he performs Fabrizio De André's "La canzone dell'amore perduto" alongside the talented Joan Thiele. Nor during Saturday's final marathon, tackled in total black. Ultra-serious, he doesn't quite make the impact he could have on screen, but still comes within a hair's breadth of the top five finalists, closing with a solid sixth place in the overall ranking. Dark in just the right measure, the song will likely keep growing over time, in all probability becoming a classic in his repertoire.

Score: 6.5

(Claudio Lancia)

Patty Pravo – Opera 

We'll always have infinite love for the divine Strambelli, no matter what. That established, the nation's own Patty returns to the Ariston with a song whose chorus couldn't be more epic, though the lyrics are also somewhat harmless, personal memories aside, amounting to a kind of aged confession about bygone times seasoned with an eternal, almost physiological madness — fitting for one of the queens of Italian song, someone who "gli uomini me li fumo come sigarette". It obviously appeals to the over-60 crowd who still watch Mara Venier, but it will inevitably be forgotten in short order, despite a heartfelt performance from a 77-year-old who once ruled the Piper as its star turn.

Score: 6

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Raf – Ora e per sempre

In a recent interview given to OndaRock, Raf called it absurd that Sanremo has now become the only real showcase for Italian music. A fair point, no arguing with that. Unfortunately, though, the former king of Festivalbar and the charts of the 80s and 90s returns to the Ariston with a song so slapdash, harmless and forgettable from the very first listen that it could in theory have been rejected even by a Giuliano Sangiorgi. Which says it all. Raf crosses the Ariston stage without leaving any mark, while on social media the attention goes more to how ageless he still looks than to the song itself. And that too, sadly, says everything about the merits of "Ora e per sempre".

 Score: 5

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Sal Da Vinci – Per sempre sì

Take “Se bruciasse la città” by Massimo Ranieri, rough it up inside a bag full of white confetti, shake well, dye it with hair-colouring solution, dress it up in neomelodico gloss and then "serve" it with fervour at the Ariston. "Per sempre sì" is this, but also something else. Namely, a hymn to eternal love in a mock-monastic key, to be belted out at the most fervent weddings you might attend if you're in Naples and the surrounding area. "Per sempre sì" has bewitched the Ariston, the press room and much of the audience, who keep singing along to it, streaming it on virtually every platform available. And despite being a dreadful song, it will make Da Vinci's fortune — a man who has studied a great deal over his career and deserves respect regardless. But who also knows very well the most kitsch shakers of the Italian record market in these accursed times, see "Rossetto e caffè". First place, ultra-predicted by every bookmaker.

Score: 4

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Samurai Jay – Ossessione

Ultra-predictable, beach-ready reggaeton, with Belén resurrected, dancing like a woman possessed, maybe offering you her foot to sip the champagne trickling steamily down her legs from. This is "Ossessione" in a nutshell, the song with which Samurai Jay — who last year dominated TikTok and what's left of summer jukeboxes with "Halo" — makes his Sanremo debut. Gennaro sings, has fun, dances, winks at the camera, mistaking the Ariston for a salsa-and-merengue dance floor. In his own way he also does "well", because the aim is to get himself noticed even more after tasting a certain degree of success on social media. The point is that the Ariston shouldn't be this — to put it in Raf's own words. A congeniality prize, but Sanremo, or what's left of the once-great show, is another matter entirely.

Score: 5

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Sayf – Tu mi piaci tanto

So-so in the first two rounds, when many were fooled by the seemingly frivolous chorus. Sayf is the most beloved artist among the very young in this edition of the Sanremo Festival, a showcase that will definitively launch him towards much wider fame. On Thursday, when the televote comes into play, he lands straight in the top five; on Friday he places second on cover night, thanks to a rousing rendition of "Hit The Road Jack" alongside Mario Biondi, Alex Britti and his own mother on backing vocals. That's where he wins everyone over, finally in command of the stage, also showing off his skills on the trumpet. The commitment of Daniele Silvestri combined with the exoticism of Ghali, for a future that could turn out to be full of satisfactions. And a present that hands him an incredible second place!

Score: 6.5

(Claudio Lancia)

Serena Brancale – Qui con me

Runner-up in the newly minted "Coppa Cristicchi", won hands down by Ermal Meta (see above), Serena Brancale's grieving ballad dedicated to her late mother is performed with great intensity from the very first night, and indeed it earns a long, well-deserved round of applause from the Ariston every time it's performed. Part of the sorrowful family bereavement story lies with the conductor, Serena's sister: essentially, a family psychotherapy session broadcast on Eurovision.

I wouldn't listen to such a dramatic and heavy-handed song even through someone else's ears, if not in the parallel dimension of Sanremo week, but if this is still meant to be the stage for singing, then Brancale has few rivals among the thirty who flocked to Liguria this year: even compared to the nightingale-voiced Arisa she's warmer and more imaginative; compared to the hirsute Renga she's more poetic and elegant. Talent and ability wasted, certainly, but at least present. At Sanremo, voice-and-tears is a combination that often guarantees excellent results in the final ranking, but surprisingly she stops at ninth place.

Score: 6.5

(Antonio Silvestri)

Tommaso Paradiso – I romantici

Take one of the many solo Paradiso songs, the kind that immediately bring to mind a carbonara variant of Luca Carboni, listen to it for twenty seconds and then play "I romantici". Well, you won't notice any difference, no compositional effort whatsoever on the part of the former frontman of Thegiornalisti. Absolute zero. Not the duo, mind you. The Roman singer-songwriter, a fan of Vasco and indeed Carboni to the point of emulating them beyond belief, arrives at Sanremo riding the now-stalled wind of the earworm hits of a few years back. "I romantici" is an it-pop ditty just like a hundred thousand others by Paradiso and beyond. Starting with the verses, with the same old piano, and the chorus that arrives like a Haaland goal scored all alone in front of an empty net. The violins help here and there, but it's too little. Tommaso believes in it, somewhere between a "kiss before leaving" and a "shower before sleeping". Anything else?

Score: 4.5

(Giuliano Delli Paoli)

Tredici Pietro – Uomo che cade

One of the small (and few) surprises of this edition, it has a good groove and is performed without overestimating itself, as too often happens around here. The verses have something sinuous, even sensual about them: a rare commodity on a stage that's generally sanitised, sterile. The song opens up in the chorus, bittersweet, which he delivers better after a first attempt that was a touch too forced: “E faccio un’altra figuraccia/ Come un bambino scivolato in una piazza/ A volte siamo bravi a sparire/ Per non rischiare/ Di farci male”. Good use of the orchestra, with brass and choir adding depth to the carefully crafted arrangement. It stands out and sticks in the memory, even though it lacks a creative masterstroke in the finale, settling for a brief acoustic variation. He falls three places short of living up to his stage name: sixteenth.

Score: 7

(Antonio Silvestri)

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