Love, explicitly

A while back, I reviewed Mary Mack's album. I was struck by its subtle feminism. Giulia Rozzi is not subtle. And while she's probably not my mom's kind of feminist ("According to [Internet] commenters, women can have only one talented hole, and I want all of my holes to be talented. It's just a dream that I've always had" is probably not an evolution foreseen by Betty Friedan), there is a very clear "women are real people" vibe going on.

Giulia Rozzi
True Love
(Comedy Records)
Like Mack, Rozzi focuses more on being funny than on promulgating a "message". And she's really funny. Her deconstruction of 69 is absolutely sidesplitting. So, yeah. This album is pretty much about sex, stupid guys, stupid girls, bad relationships, good-bad relationships, the intimate relationship between food and sex and a few digressions into the whole Italian family thing.

And it all makes sense. Rozzi relates her tales and observations in a matter-of-fact manner, and the whole album sounds a lot more like a conversation than a performance. An intensely hilarious conversation, the kind that makes you spit out whatever you're drinking because you heard something incomparably funny (I actually did this twice; it's a good thing iMacs have glass screens).

The audience sounds heavily female, but perhaps the men weren't laughing as much. Why? Are you scared? C'mon guys. This shit is seriously funny.

Yes, there are a few serious undertones to many of the stories, but the stories themselves are often batshit crazy funny. She'll lull you with a few seconds of normality and then you realize what she's saying and then fall on the floor laughing. That's the just the best.

Jon Worley

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