Sanremo 2021

The themes

Why do we keep watching the Sanremo Festival every year? Out of tradition? Because we're tireless voyeurs always waiting for something sensational to happen? Because we want to follow our favourite songwriter or artist? Do we just like the good-looking host of the moment? To play the hater on social media, insulting more or less everyone? Everyone has their own reasons, but the fact is that several million of us end up in front of the TV, for almost a week, looking for a bit of pleasant escapism. For the 2021 edition we don't even have many alternatives, stuck at home by the restrictions of yet another government decree. A Sanremo marked by the consequences of the pandemic, in doubt right up to the last moment, at risk of being postponed if not outright cancelled. We'll remember it as the Sanremo of social distancing, of the sadly empty audience, then filled with coloured balloons, then empty again. The Sanremo of flowers handed over with gloves and carried on a trolley. A Sanremo that, for once, was entirely homegrown, organised under conditions that made it impossible to involve guests not resident in Italy.

Sanremo went ahead all the same, because for a music market now in intensive care, an event like this is simply too vital to everyone involved. And so, as always, we get a Festival built to please four generations at once: those who applaud the medley from the ever-feisty Loredana Bertè (it's always a pleasure to hear again the songs written by Ivano Fossati), or Ornella Vanoni's, or the nostalgic return of Gigliola Cinquetti, Fausto Leali and Marcella Bella, as well as those left in awe by the five tableaux of Achille Lauro, whose theatricality is put to use flying the flag for diversity and inclusion, and demanding rights that in Italy still aren't recognised.

A show as polished as it is long — it's hard to shake off Amadeus and Fiorello before two in the morning, a running time stretched out for purely commercial reasons: the longer the evening drags on, the more ad breaks can be aired. Well-oiled and reliable, the duo formed by the artistic director (on his second — and, he says, for now last — term) and the nation's own Rosario is nonetheless starting to show signs of wear, dusting off jokes already heard in holiday resorts 35 years ago. Which is why the female co-hosts are so welcome, one per evening, drawn from the worlds of film (Matilda De Angelis, recently seen in "The Undoing"), music (Elodie, who turns out to be the most popular), fashion (Vittoria Ceretti, brought in to replace Naomi Campbell) and journalism (Barbara Palombelli).

It's also a Sanremo of tributes: Il Volo sing Morricone with the Maestro's son conducting the orchestra (was that really necessary?), Enzo Avitabile reworks Carosone (his version of "Caravan Petrol" is a real barnstormer), and then there's the due tribute to Claudio Coccoluto, who passed away that very Tuesday morning, to Gigi Proietti, and to Lucio Dalla. The Sanremo of Donato Grande, striker for the national powerchair football team — the sport played by disabled kids in electric-motor wheelchairs — taking to the Ariston stage to raise awareness of the delicate issue of architectural barriers. The Sanremo of Antonella Ferrari, an actress living with multiple sclerosis, who tugs at the heart with an excerpt from her autobiographical theatre show, put on hold because of Covid-19. The Sanremo of Sinisa Mihajlovic, who together with his friend Zlatan Ibrahimovic talks about the fight against an illness that all too often proves incurable. The Sanremo against violence towards women, with Bertè leaving red shoes on stage as a way of urging women to report abuse after the very first slap.

The Sanremo of Giovanni Lindo Ferretti, finally recognised as one of the greatest Italian songwriters of all time, thanks to two songs reinterpreted on cover night (and guest night): Max Gazzè and Daniele Silvestri sing the serene resignation of "Del Mondo" (from the C.S.I. catalogue), while Maneskin and Manuel Agnelli turn "Amandoti" (CCCP) into a live wire of electricity. Agnelli in turn is honoured by Lo Stato Sociale, who revisit the Afterhours classic "Non è per sempre", including a reading of a list of live clubs, theatres and cinemas currently closed, standing in for the hardships facing the entire entertainment world. The wild Bregovic-style whirlwind staged by the frenzied Extraliscio, complete with spinning guitars and unhinged dancers, gets you thinking about the need for constant coups de théâtre just to hold people's attention. It's true that Orietta Berti's voice (78 next June!) is about as genuine and traditional as it gets in this edition, a reminder to everyone that you can still sing well without autotune (if your vocal cords are up to it), but who would go back and watch on YouTube the flawless, if perfectly capable, Sanremo melodies of Noemi, Annalisa and Gaia if it weren't for their harmonious silhouettes? Who would even notice Lo Stato Sociale if it weren't for the stage gimmicks that make every performance unique (Lodo shut inside a cardboard box, a quick-change artist swapping outfits in five seconds)? Even a thoroughly successful track like "Musica leggerissima" by the duo Colapesce & DiMartino (not by chance the most voted by the press-room jury) really only seems to take off once world champion figure skater Paola Fraschini steps onto the stage. Have we perhaps reached a dangerous point of no return, where songs alone, without some gimmick to grab the audience's attention, simply aren't enough anymore?

But there are plenty of us who keep watching Sanremo, every single year, and in this edition also — and above all — out of a strong desire for togetherness, a burning wish to all be together again, sharing in one event. In this context, Maneskin's win can be explained by a need for energy, for real electricity and, why not, for electric guitars capable of shaking the sound to its foundations. Maneskin arrive at just the right moment: they're good-looking, they're energetic, they command the stage, they're improving as musicians, and they have an effective song that takes us back to the golden years of Italian alternative rock. Maneskin belong to the Sanremo of "newcomers", names on the rise but still outside the inner circle that counts. La Rappresentante di Lista, Madame, Coma Cose — names outside the it-pop and trap mainstream, but carving out ever more significant space for themselves. A voice that could well grow beyond the narrow niche it currently occupies. A group of independent artists, already perfectly recognisable, who collectively outdid all the trappers and neomelodici on the bill. A strong signal from Sanremo, and let's hope this is the last time we have to watch it under conditions like these, with all the restrictions currently imposed by decree. (Claudio Lancia)

Report card

Maneskin with "Zitti e buoni": a riff worn out from overuse, almost mocking the beloved walkmen jealously kept in bedrooms. They win a Festival that, at least on paper, should have rewarded the young. Unfortunately, they are the old-young, and novelty is anything but what's on offer here. What's more, they're not even especially "personal". Without bothering to drag in the three hundred thousand mediocre bands of Virgin Radio-style rock, just listen to "F.D.T." by Anthony Laszlo to figure out where the song comes from. Fair enough, everyone gets to lose themselves now and then in warmed-over leftovers — more or less everybody does it. But treating them as the saviours of the nation is another matter entirely. The lyrics, on top of it, are a sloppy, predictable mess. Helping their cause is a fired-up Vasco Rossi on social media, urging fans to back them Ferragni-style, all in the name of some supposed "rock" spirit. Well, that Vasco has aged badly, like so many other greats of the past, is hardly news. Proof lies in a few carbon-copy-of-the-Offspring songs from his (all too dreadful) second career, starting with the intro of "Cosa vuoi da me", practically identical to "Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)". Some, like this writer, still call him, when strictly necessary, "Blasco", while others have taken to hailing him as "Komandante". It's the same vast distance separating those who love real rock from those who greet Maneskin with such enthusiasm. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 3)

Fedez and Francesca Michielin with "Chiamami per nome", among the most anticipated beforehand, and (surprise, surprise) among the most voted for in the public vote. She sings well as always, but the song, despite input from Dargen D'Amico and his friend Mahmood among the writing credits, is as bland as Fedez's vocal performance, somewhere between a timid rapper — flawed from the start — and a karaoke audition. There's really very little Michielin can do about it. So it falls to Ferragni to rally her 23 million followers. And the result is a second place that feels a bit like a slap in the face to the other 25 competitors, and to quite a few fans of the so-called Italian pop song as well. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 4.5)

Ermal Meta with "Un milione di cose da dirti": he showed up at Sanremo to win, dressed like someone ready to well up for the camera. He sings impeccably, and it's a song that fits him like a glove, one where he manages to give his all without overdoing it. The emotional build-up is predictable, but he avoids going overboard, and just when he might slide into pathetic whining he instead pulls back, swerves and flutters through some vocal runs to set himself apart from a Renga or an Aiello. In the end, third place amounts to a defeat, and it might just keep him away from the competition for a while. (Antonio Silvestri, 6)

Colapesce and Dimartino with "Musica leggerissima": a few nanoseconds in and it's suddenly "We Are The People" by Empire of the Sun, though thankfully the familiar indie-pop hook kicks back in on the second run-through. There's even a Julio Iglesias reference in the chorus. But that's fine. It's a fresh song regardless, notwithstanding the (all too obvious) tribute to the lighter side of our musical past. In the first performance it's missing that certain something (call it verve, call it whatever you like) that thankfully resurfaces in the studio version. They win the "Lucio Dalla Prize", and given their modest social media pull, which doesn't leave much room in the public vote, they can still be satisfied. Well done. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 6.5)

Irama with "La genesi del tuo colore": he was the unluckiest of them all, the one who couldn't perform live and had to make do with a recording of rehearsals. It's therefore hard to judge his track, and especially his performance, which is inherently different, not to say distorted. The song, as it reached us, is Irama bringing his own take on pop — danceable, with Latin inflections — to Sanremo too. The robotic chorus, which warps his voice to a degree well beyond even a Fasma, is in its own way a bold move for the Ariston, engineered by that exceptional producer Dardust. There's no knowing how it would have gone without Covid, but that's exactly what makes this track one of the most bound to its context, even if unintentionally. On a human level, it's a shame. Musically, it'll keep racking up summer streams, rest assured. (Antonio Silvestri, 6)

Willie Peyote with "Mai dire mai (la locura)": a track that gets off to a rocky start, with the arrangement swallowing up the vocals, only pulling itself together in the nursery-rhyme chorus. It works better in later performances, and after repeated listens it becomes an easy, winning little tune you find yourself humming along to. It's more or less socially engaged in its lyrics, at times caustic and provocative, but with a string of pop winks designed to tickle a certain audience, starting with the title itself, which quotes a Valerio Aprea monologue from "Boris", and continuing through the jab at the reopening of stadiums. It's easy to find yourself agreeing with at least some of it, and maybe sharing a couple of lines in your stories, like "Sta roba che cinque anni fa era già vecchia/ Ora sembra avanguardia e la chiamano it-pop". It's not exactly a new "The self-righteous crowd", but it still manages to land the Critics' Award "Mia Martini", Champions section. The studio version comes off better: the lyrics come through more clearly. (Antonio Silvestri, 6.5)

Annalisa with "Dieci": the TV show "Amici" has done a lot of damage. In every way, in every place, in every lake. Luckily, she's one of the few survivors of that dreadful wave. Sure, Gaia is out there flying the flag too. But right now it's best not to think about that. Anyway, Annalisa objectively sings well, but even here, in this "Dieci", almost nothing sticks in the end. Just that cosmic void that would be better left to the folks at CERN in Geneva. Gelmini permitting. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 4)

Madame with "Voce": she's playing an entirely different league from opening night onward. A flawless performance that grows exponentially with every show. She's got personality to spare, you can hear it immediately, and it's certainly no revelation at this point despite her young age. She shows the self-awareness of a thirty-year-old and a class that's off the charts. The song, moreover, carries that cursed allure typical of someone who only seems to be going under, while in fact always staying right there, ready to bite the microphone and everything else. There's held-back regret that first turns to light and then, indeed, to voice. Dardust's arrangement is as explosive as it is classily calibrated. There are even Burial-esque echoes (of all things!) serving as a backdrop for everything else. A refrain that gets under your skin thanks to a devastating opening, shifting gear and register with the verse. She finishes eighth after struggling low down the rankings in the first shows. And she also wins the award for "Best Lyrics". The future is here. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 8)

Orietta Berti with "Quando ti sei innamorato": the only entrant in the over bracket, in an edition unusually focused on singers not yet in their golden years. She takes the stage with the tender, peaceful air of Italian song's grandmother and sings a classic tune, handled very well in its airy melody, though also vocally demanding. Professional and elegant, Berti never loses her composure and never turns ridiculous the way any old Al Bano might, even though she belongs to his era and the song is clearly not of this century. A love theme of the most classic kind, with no erotic itch, rounding off performances marked by a reassuring sense of déjà entendu, squarely within the comfort zone even for the most âgée members of the audience. An iconic dress with scallop shells over the breasts on opening night, the kind of thing that could send mollusc demand through the roof. In an interview she says she'd like to duet with "Ermal Metal" and the "Naziskin", and first you smile, then all you want to do is hug her. (Antonio Silvestri, 5)

Arisa with "Potevi far di più": a case of nomen omen if ever there was one. It's a watered-down version of "La notte", Arisa's hit that came second at the Festival back in 2012. A rehash in D'Alessio-esque sauce. The track is indeed written by Gigi D'Alessio. If the lyrics aim for the usual Sanremo romanticism tinged with the physiological regret found in every love story, the chorus goes for the emphatic decay of the "original version". Only that huge voice manages to salvage things somewhat, but it's too little for what is, at bottom, a mediocre composition. Not to mention the aggravating factor of the outfit chosen for opening night. But that's another story. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 5)

La Rappresentante di Lista with "Amare": Veronica Lucchesi goes all in to show off her ability to command the stage, while Dario Francesco Mangiaracina, guitarist and co-founder of the band, risks coming off a bit like a Jalisse-style also-ran. After a slightly hazy opening performance, Lucchesi bares her claws and proves electrifying and possessed, with a track whose whole raison d'être lies precisely in her vocal performance. The two frontpeople showed up three times in migraine-inducing colours, which, combined with this edition's chaotic direction — desperately chasing dynamism in an unsettlingly empty theatre — didn't do much for the overall watchability. Better on the final night, with the huge wedding dress forcing slightly more restrained movements and, thanks to the white, going a little easier on the retinas. Destined to be remembered, they used Sanremo as a showcase for their energetic pop-rock. (Antonio Silvestri, 7)

Extraliscio feat. Davide Toffolo with "Bianca luce nera": the most atypical entry of this edition. Modelled on Romagna's liscio dance-hall tradition, Mirco Mariani, Moreno il Biondo and Mauro Ferrara, here assisted by Davide Toffolo, build a nocturnal folk-rock, complete with the occasional punk-rock jolt in the form of a chaotic guitar solo. The whole thing can bring to mind patchanka transplanted into the Italian provinces, or a Capossela with a dash of Calexico. The reference point that will inevitably spring to fans' minds is obviously CCCP, who had already fused the two worlds with very different results and, let's be honest, results not matched here — and probably unmatchable. On stage they're among the liveliest, with Toffolo's usual touch of grotesque via his "happy dead boy" mask, but they're also the only ones exploring an aesthetic that rhymes tradition with death, highlighting that ambiguity in the hypnotic, split-personality chorus. (Antonio Silvestri, 7)

Lo Stato Sociale with "Combat Pop": it was easy to expect something along the lines of their 2018 entry, "Una vita in vacanza", and to some extent that's exactly what happened. Fast-paced and lively, pop-rock with a danceable edge, capable of pairing fun with some substance beyond the usual tired love dedication. This time, though, they did better — not so much in the writing as in the performance: having avoided putting blond Lodo front and centre, replaced as lead voice and, on one night, even locked inside a box, the band puts together a colourful triptych of performances recalling the most whimsical moments of Elii at Sanremo. They namecheck Clash and Skiantos, turn serious on covers night and move the audience by talking about the wounds of the entertainment world, and for once prove that it's possible to entertain without giving up on substance: well done! (Antonio Silvestri, 7)

Noemi with "Glicine": you can tell where it's headed after three notes. But, unlike Aiello for instance, she ends up holding back too much, especially on opening night. Perfectly honest lyrics and music. A homework assignment done in flawless Sanremo style. Nobody expected fireworks going in, and it turns out to be a syrupy song overall, made vibrant by Noemi's characteristically moving voice. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 6)

Malika Ayane with "Ti piaci così": in one of their typical one-liners, The Jackal describe her as "Lady Gaga bought off Wish", but that comparison only really holds on a purely visual level. Ayane is a refined performer who plays it subtle, never overdoing the melodrama the way any old Emma Marrone might. The track, a sensual, danceable electro-pop number, is a display of style that has little to do with typical Sanremo fare, and instead feels every time like balm for the eardrums. It helps that Pacifico contributed to the writing. (Antonio Silvestri, 7)

Fulminacci with "Santa Marinella": the most indie entry of this edition, and it's a De Gregori-esque take on a track that never quite finds its ideal setting on the Sanremo stage. It's no coincidence that Filippo Uttinacci won the Tenco Prize for best debut work and the MEI award for best young artist of the year, not some popularity contest. He sings and plays without setting the world alight, and risks immediate oblivion, though repeated listens improve things somewhat: keep trying, Pippo, but as for "Santa Marinella", we still prefer Gogol Bordello's version. (Antonio Silvestri, 4.5)

Max Gazzè with "Il farmacista": you just have to come to terms with his style. Unchanging as religious dogma. There's little more to add. Listening to a Gazzè song at the Festival is like tasting grandma's soup. Always the same old refrain — or the same old goodness, depending on your taste. In short, take it or leave it. This year, though, the lyrics are even more baffling, with impetuous passages like: "Trifluoperazina, stramonio e pindololo. A pinch of secobarbital: administer before a long-winded solo kicks in". Count the r's (and the s's too) and gauge the effect without the music, bearing in mind that Gazzè's is French. You still can't help but love him, but that's about it — a random passing grade. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 6)

Fasma with "Parlami": on opening night he fumbles the ending while singing a track that everyone who already loves it will love. Hooray for youth, no complaints there. But Fasma's version should be asking for more. He leans on autotune for support, but it ends up destabilising the structure of what would otherwise be an easily digestible song. It'll do well on the radio and on streaming platforms. Care to bet? (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 5)

Gaia with "Cuore Amaro": the most frivolous track of the Festival, essentially stepping into the slot that belonged to Elettra Lamborghini back in 2020. It's probably designed for Spotify and radio, because at Sanremo it sounds a bit out of place, and the performance isn't especially memorable on any of the nights. She has no small amount of vocal talent, on display during covers night, but she lacks the character and charisma here to really break through the screen, and the risk of blending in among so many other pop stars is right around the corner. The indecent little blue fringed dress didn't help, but it was the least of many problems. A wasted opportunity. (Antonio Silvestri, 4.5)

Coma_Cose with "Fiamme negli occhi": like Ghemon, they too spare no expense. They couldn't care less, staring straight into each other's eyes the whole time, singing an immediate, romantically irreverent track. Wess & Dori Ghezzi 4.0 is the quickest description, and in some ways a fitting one. They'll go on to win over other audiences. And the final ranking barely matters. This isn't their crowd. Even the fish know that. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 7)

Ghemon with “Momento perfetto”: or perhaps “moment of courage.” Ghemon returns to the Ariston with a fearless song. Among other things, one that's extremely difficult to sing. He blends rap, soul and funk and does exactly what he'd promised beforehand, having a blast and not giving a damn about anyone around him. It's that jester-like side of his - a bit sad, a bit swaggering - that few people know about. And he's keen to point it out, having fun with it in a lighthearted way. Some have mentioned Dirotta su Cuba, a lofty reference that speaks volumes. He ends up in the lower ranks, like most of those who bring something beyond the usual show. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 7.5)

Francesco Renga with “Quando trovo te”: the Renga mystery deepens. After winning the Festival in 2005 with “Angelo,” he's basically been phoning it in for the following three decades, pouring honey on honey into songs increasingly caught between the serious and the typically 'Sanremo-esque'. “Quando trovo te,” however, represents the epic culmination of this decline. Rock bottom is finally reached with a track that aims for vocal-tone variation coupled with melodic shifts, between one rise and fall and the next. The result is, precisely, the definitive descent into a well that's now run dry. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 4)

Gio Evan with “Arnica”: he almost always shows up in hallucinogenic outfits that defy any notion of restraint or elegance, only toning it down on the final night. This whole image of a sophisticated, technicolor hippie, curls and all, clashes rather sharply with the song he brings, often sung in a half-voice and without any showy flourishes, where he switches registers but only pulls it off in fits and starts. Heavy doses of mawkishness, of the worst kind. Rejected. (Antonio Silvestri, 4)

Bugo with “E invece sì”: it's not clear what naivety led Bugo to think that returning to the scene of the crime, to the stage he once walked off, could keep the memes about the Morgan feud from resurfacing. Inevitably, from Spinoza to Facebook, via Instagram and plain old WhatsApp chats among viewers, his performance dredged back up that pre-lockdown event that's since become iconic, overshadowing this new song too. Granted, he came across as far too emotional, singing shakily and struggling to hold the stage in every performance. The song is in keeping with the Bugo of recent years, who lacks the old weird quality but is still likeable, crowd-pleasing tendencies aside - though heard on Spotify it's all much better than at the Ariston: unjustifiable, for someone who by now should be a seasoned performer. (Antonio Silvestri, 5)

Aiello with “Ora”: expectations were high, and he could have aimed for far better results, but once he starts singing, it's hard not to picture an improbable clash between Marco Mengoni and Fausto Leali duelling it out, repeatedly passing the mic back and forth. Too many contrasts, too many rollercoaster swings. The refrain, in typical Mengoni-flavoured pop style, is there, but it shouts too much and ends up self-destructing like a secret-service message. A performance that, in part, is inexplicably ham-fisted. It'll surely bounce back on radio. That much is a given. And last place would have been undeserved either way. (Giuliano Delli Paoli, 6.5)

Random with “Torno a te”: overall the most colourless and the most forgettable entry, which is somewhat justified by his still-green career and young age (though, then again, look at Madame…). Even the covers night failed to redeem him, so much so that it's hard not to think Sanremo is still out of his league, and that there's still work to be done in calmer, less competitive settings. He finishes last, no surprises there. (Antonio Silvestri, 4)

The final ranking

1 – Maneskin – Zitti e buoni

2 – Fedez e Francesca Michielin – Chiamami per nome

3 – Ermal Meta – Un milione di cose da dirti

4 – Colapesce e DiMartino – Musica leggerissima

5 – Irama – La genesi del tuo colore

6 – Willie Peyote – Mai dire mai (La locura)

7 – Annalisa – Dieci

8 – Madame – Voce

9 – Orietta Berti – Quando ti sei innamorato

10 – Arisa – Potevi fare di più

11 – La Rappresentante di Lista – Amare

12 – Extraliscio e Davide Toffolo – Bianca luce nera

13 – Lo Stato Sociale – Combat Pop

14 – Noemi – Glicine

15 – Malika Ayane – Ti piaci così

16 – Fulminacci – Santa Marinella

17 – Max Gazzè – Il farmacista

18 – Fasma – Parlami

19 – Gaia – Cuore amaro

20 – Coma_Cose – Fiamme negli occhi

21 – Ghemon – Momento perfetto

22 – Francesco Renga – Quando trovo te

23 – Gio Evan – Arnica

24 – Bugo – E invece sì

25 – Aiello – Ora

26 – Random – Torno a te

The awards

Winner, Champions category: Maneskin

Critics' Award “Mia Martini”: Willie Peyote

Press Room Award “Lucio Dalla”: Colapesce & Dimartino

“Sergio Bardotti” Award for Best Lyrics: Madame

“Giancarlo Bigazzi” Award for Best Composition: Ermal Meta

Winner, New Proposals category: Gaudiano

Critics' Award “Mia Martini”, New Proposals category: Wrongonyou

Press Room Award “Lucio Dalla”, New Proposals category: Davide Shorty

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