Tell us a bit more about your background and your current work:
I make colorful pop with a thread of melancholy twisted over the groove. I’ve been writing songs since I was 13 years old. I started because I was bored when studying in music school, and continued because I was pretty much always bored, always listening to music, always sighing, and always in love with someone. For the past few years, I have been writing records and performing on stages in Italy and abroad.
Who are your musical inspirations?
I have always loved Mina, Raffaella Carrà, and Ornella Vanoni. I listen to everything, most often indie, R&B, and hip hop.
Why did you choose to stay in Italy?
I often ask myself this question, and the answer is, I don’t know. I don’t understand why, even in the face of the most obvious and unbearable problems, I never seriously consider actually leaving. Like many, perhaps I stay because I am cursed to like this place in spite of everything. There would be a thousand reasons; probably the most bitter and sincere one is that, deep down, I prefer to live lightly, get by, to hope, not to change friends, and to eat well.
What do you see for the future of the music industry in Italy?
I have no idea. So many things change quite fast, and sometimes I feel like I understand or can even predict, and sometimes I don’t understand anything at all. In the end, music is an open space. I think there is room for everyone. The industry lately tends to be repetitive, while it needs to remain more curious, contaminated, and interconnected–that’s how new things are born.
What are the greatest obstacles and satisfactions that you face working in this country?
It’s always difficult to find really suitable places to do concerts because there are very few places designed for this in Italy. Our industry is not taken very seriously in the first place by the State: there is almost no investment in music and culture.
Working in Italy for me means going on tour and being able to see incredible things in the most unexpected places, getting to know realities and people who are committed to creating something good in their territory, often in areas forgotten by everyone. This always makes me believe in something that I still can’t see clearly, but that seems like something better, or perhaps the only glimmer of hope.