Back in '94, Germany gifted us Serenade, an electronic house album by Giovanna Deiana that’s kind of like finding a forgotten mixtape in your car—you press play and suddenly you’re transported somewhere else. Produced by Lothar Krell and penned by Giovanna herself with Klaus Sperber, this record is equal parts nostalgia trip and dance floor fuel. Released under Columbia, it might not have been the flashiest debut, but man, does it stick to your ribs.
Let’s talk tracks for a sec. First up: “You Make A Rainy Day Shine.” It’s one of those songs where you don’t realize how much you need it until it's playing. The beat? Smooth as butter melting on warm toast. But what really gets me is Giovanna’s voice—it floats over the synths like she’s whispering secrets only you can hear. This track feels like walking through Berlin at dawn when the streets are still damp from last night’s rain. You know, the kind of vibe that makes you wanna light a cigarette even if you don’t smoke (guilty).
Then there’s “Serenade (Extended Remix).” Oh boy, this version stretches out like summer vacation. If the radio edit is a quick fling, the extended remix is the whole relationship—slow builds, euphoric drops, and enough room to lose yourself in the groove. There’s something hypnotic about how the percussion loops around you, pulling you deeper into its spell. By the time the breakdown hits, you’re basically levitating. I mean, seriously, who needs therapy when you’ve got seven minutes of pure sonic escapism?
What strikes me most about Serenade isn’t just the music—it’s the way it captures a moment in time without trying too hard. House music back then wasn’t about perfection; it was raw, unfiltered emotion cranked up to eleven. And while Giovanna Deiana may not be a household name today, her work here proves she had chops. Sure, some parts sound dated now, but isn’t that part of the charm? Like old Polaroids or VHS tapes, these little imperfections make it real.
So yeah, Serenade is more than just another '90s relic—it’s proof that sometimes beauty hides in plain sight. Honestly, listening to it feels like running into an old friend you haven’t seen in years. Except instead of catching up over coffee, you’re both dancing barefoot in someone’s living room. Weird flex, but I’d recommend pairing it with neon lights and cheap wine. Cheers to that!
