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Roma, Italy

๐“ผ๐“ช๐“ถ๐“ธ๐“ผ๐“ช ๐“ฏ๐“ช๐“ถ๐“ธ๐“ผ๐“ช
See you at the unlabeled secret party that pops up in the capital every now and thenโ€”who knows where, who knows when. A place where rules donโ€™t exist, just dancing with Babรน and savoring the perfect stuffed fagottino.

๐Ÿ• ๐•Šโ„‚๐”ธโ„•โ„ค๐•†โ„•๐”ธ๐•‹๐•€๐•Š๐•Š๐•€๐•„๐”ธ๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡น
A celebration of Italian musical selections spanning neapolitan funk and Italian disco.

A walking archive of Italian pop culture, disco beats, forgotten female vocals and synth echoes from another planet. I believe every song deserves a second spin, except the ones that donโ€™t.
Digital obsessed since the modem screamed. I used to make mixtapes on Minidiscs like an unapologetic misunderstood nerd.
Born in a house full of records, I became a disco digger early on, probably because at six years old I couldnโ€™t stop wondering how Kate Bush was breaking everything in Babooshka.

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