Ladies are going to read the name Paolo Nutini, hear his heavenly voice, and think he’s some sort of native Italian Casanova. Tough luck girls, Signor Nutini is just your average kilt-wearing (I’m assuming that, of course) kid from the lowlands of Scotland. Regardless of his origins, most people who hear Paolo Nutini for the first time are astonished that that fierce, ardent voice had never crossed their ears before. The United States may have ignored Nutini’s artistry for scarcely justifiable reasons, but he’s been the UK’s hidden golden boy over the past 10 years. How hidden you ask? Since 2006, Nutini has had 2 albums go quadruple (!) platinum in Britain, with several others making it up to platinum status.

Sure, I can listen to Paolo belt out soulful poetry until he nearly runs out of breath all day, but I don’t particularly enjoy the decision to cut away to a soundbite as a replacement for the song’s bridge. The hackneyed monologue sounds like every uniting inspirational speech I’ve ever heard, and considering it’s coupled within a song driven by vocal passion and talent, the speech seems to dampen the integrity that Iron Sky could have possessed. Looking towards the future, Nutini has been performing without recording for the past 2 years, which always raises concern for attentive music junkies like myself awaiting fresh installments of Nutini’s harmonies. The problem here is that Nutini has noted to the press that he’s smoked cannabis every day of his life since he’s been 16, so I doubt he’s in a huge rush.

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