I still feel dizzy – the docu-series on Elodie recently came out Prime Videos, three episodes of forty minutes each that talk about his last year, up to a few days before Sanremo – it’s a nice product. Not so much for the direction of Nicola Sorcinelli, however effective, nor because it is who knows how innovative for the genre, indeed. Simply because it does what it’s supposed to do: a behind the scenes textbook, in the sense that despite its limited duration, it shows the protagonist in the off moments and when she is in the studio, gives her a first-person voice, explains the role of the various collaborators. And above all, she adds thickness and depth – which is always needed – to the character. Why Elodiesand we had already seen it in a nice documentary by Noisey made before streaming and certifications reached the monstrous numbers of now, it has a story: it comes from the Quartaccio working class district of Rome, it lived a childhood full of difficulties, it didn’t even get its diploma and before even touching certain opportunity, as she says, had to hit her head again and again. She is still over thirty today, and hers success story made of tears and sweat it is somewhat reminiscent of that of another son of the Lupa like Renato Zero, another emblem of a tenacious suburban boy, of the approximation of “if you want you can”. It’s also time for urban, and this street attitude certainly helps. But this is not the point.
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Elodie, we said, has a story, and I still feel dizzy testifies well, between moments in which she herself shows the images of when she was a child, up to more spontaneous gestures and expressions, strictly in dialect, which belong to her, explain her roots and make her credible, different from the rest, and that however in the tracks or on stage it is difficult to come to the surface. Elodies it therefore has a story, and a story is needed. It takes a bit of mystery, it takes three-dimensionality; it takes personality, that’s it, it takes that pop stars on duty she is not a plastic actress but can maintain shadow areas, acquire depth. Ask Madonna, Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift or Miley Cyrus for an idea. And so yes, I still feel dizzy and the right series at the right time.
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If anything, the problem is another one, and it concerns that “pop star” that we have only now quietly brought up: if Italian music already has a general problem with women, it has a particular one with female pop stars; those, that is, like Elodie, who make blatantly pop songs, know how to dance, sing, provoke (“be a whore”, as she says), dress, in short, also be icons and protagonists of their time, and also keep their gray areas, play with ambiguity. This world here, of fireworks, eroticism and dance bodies, is an empire in the United States (we just mentioned the names), while here it doesn’t exist. At the beginning of the zero years, Paola and Chiara tried, even though they didn’t have the potential of Elodie and in any case they were liquidated within a few hits ‒ and it is no coincidence that now, that sensitivity is changing a minimum , are treated as great misunderstood. Do you want, above all, for cultural reasons, we always reward beautiful voices and great interpreters (a very long dynasty: from Giorgia to Laura Pausini, up to the names that come out of the talent shows), or at most “songwriters” like Elisa or Carmen Consoli, in any case already perceived as exceptional for the mere fact of being women in a “masculine” genre, a genre to which Madame belongs in a roundabout way today. The only real female pop star was Raffaella Carrà, but he is such a great personality for our culture that one only thinks of the proverbial exception that proves the rule. Then, of course, fortunately there are new generations of female authors who, swimming against the tide, are breaking down stereotypes (Finger in the plague above all, Annalisa in part), but none has the media impact, numbers and perspectives of Elodie, also thanks to an industry that , it must be said, with her he has decided to reverse the trend. Therefore, the question is legitimate: could Elodie be the first real Italian pop star after Carrà?
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Many aspects, in fact, suggest yes: we were talking about the story behind her, the healthy “dirt” she carries with her and her ability to provoke (which here, to women, is still granted and never due: but maybe something is changing right with her), but to be an all-round pop star Elodie is already aiming well at choreography understood as an integral part of the performances, and stupidly (in the sense that it doesn’t depend on her) she has hers as well story with Marracash, to fill social networks and newspapers. And then the film in which he stars and where did it come from, that is I eat your heart, directed by Pippo Mezzapesa and presented in Venice in 2022, helps to transform her from a simple interpreter into a sort of diva capable of moving across the board, capable of being pop. In the same way, her participation in last year’s Pride as godmother and, in a broader sense, her small battles for rights for now lower her into the values of her time and can make her an icon such as, to stay in Italy , Carrà was. The sincerity – or at least the spontaneity – with which Elodie lives all this does the rest.
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In short, because in the world of a pop star, you need to find space for something else besides the songs, which remain fundamental but to be integrated with the rest. And in any case, even there, there is everything you need, thanks to a top-of-the-range team of authors and producers ‒ Elisa herself, Federica Abbate, Davide Petrella, Mahmood, Dardust for the sounds ‒ and yields simple but similarly current, cool, as well as essentially perfect lyrics to score. Let’s take the various Okay. Breathe, Tribal or the same Two of Sanremo: while remaining in the most absolute immediacy, they are not the usual sun-heart-love, but contain phrases that remain impressed, effective claims to establish themselves over time (“For me there are two things: my tears or your tears”) , which is the only real claim that one has in front of pop songs of this type.
Yet, behold, something is still missing. And the live size: last summer Elodie performed in only one concert, at the Magnolia in Milan, a small place compared to the numbers that receive her hits; and next May 12th it will be at the Assago Forum, also in Milan, finally in a more competitive location, one could say “worthy of her”. Presales are going quite well, but it’s still a one-time date; nothing to do, therefore, with the long sold-out tours embarked on by colleagues and whom she makes eat the dust on the radio and in streaming. In this sense, the solidity and the gradual times with which the project is growing ‒ the simple passage from Magnolia to the Forum within twelve months is already indicative ‒ give us hope, just as it appears evident that live is the next step on which it is decided to invest. But, on the other hand, they make this gap even more evident and emblematic of an artist who, for the genre of reference, probably has to burn prejudices and work harder than others to reach their level. What is certain is that big shows are essential to give substance to the imagination and talent of a pop star, who clearly cannot be limited to social media and TV; in the same way, creating legions of fans – and fans are the ones who pay the ticket for listeners – is one of the few ways available to truly affect the collective culture. It’s one of the few ways to really tell yourself pop stars.
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This type of public – if you like, “loyal” – Elodie does not yet have, proof of an Italy that struggles to “take seriously” such an artist. Translated: it’s okay to listen to it on the radio, it’s okay to comment on outfits and gossip, but paying for a ticket is also not. It’s sort of a funnel, in the sense that building credibility live is probably the last cultural and symbolic barrier that separates her from being the first real Italian pop star from forty years to today. It is not little, indeed. But it’s up to her to get over it.