Release date: 17/09/2021
Indie Pop Rock & Alternative
The passerby with his head elsewhere is attracted by the luminous sign that has been there for at least thirty years and that flashes its "Cornetti caldi anche di notte" as an invitation to end the evening on a sweet, comforting note, to fill the stomach to avoid a headache in the morning. And yet, upon opening the ubiquitous opaque glass door, the passerby receives an electric shock, a slap of energy: nostrils do not register the smell of bun, eyes do not see pastry chefs at work or bartenders with their eyes at half-mast, but an overflowing life, impervious to the fact that it is five in the morning and that the world out there has already been asleep for a while or is tearing itself out of bed, or that, toh, at most it is returning home. Several rooms and for each room an atmosphere, a whole story to jump into to see where it goes. The master of ceremonies is always one, always il Baskerville, and if you let him do it, you can be sure you won't be disappointed: take the plane to have a jazzy and sparkling escapade, get obsessed with all the things you can count until you lose your mind in an electropop cascade, hit the ground running in a dangerous love story and become accomplices of who knows what crimes in a groove that pulls like hell, accompanying the oldest friend you have during his last days of life and not find anything better to do than to send down with him the psychotropic drugs available to make a last trip together, corrected by the voice first warm and then incredibly acid of a French Baskerville. And these are just some of the things that can happen to you if you open that door on which flashes the retro sign "Cornetti caldi anche di notte", that sort of space-time gap. But if you decide to do it, to tear yourself away from the usual paths that take you home, there is one thing that will definitely happen to you: when you will be there to watch closely the sneering wolves, full of money and malice that inhabit all the Via Pasubio in Italy, when synths, horns and choirs from the 80s revival will be there to dictate the movements of your hips, without knowing how, you will begin to shout along with all those around you, and in that cry amused and desperate you will also try to tell at the top of your lungs a certain Totò to stay at home, in the workshop, not to go to Via Pasubio either: at that point, you will know the reasons even better than il Baskerville.