Album Review: Mi Nina by Roberto Romano – A Heartfelt Latin Escape from Italy
Alright, let me just say this straight up: Roberto Romano’s Mi Nina is like that warm cup of coffee you didn’t know you needed on a chilly morning. The album, released under the Greengarage label, brings some serious Latin vibes with an Italian twist. And honestly? It works. Like, really works. You can tell Romano poured his soul into every track, and it shows in ways that are hard to shake off.
Let’s dive into two tracks that stuck with me because, man, they’re special. First up, there’s “Mi Nina.” I mean, how could I not remember this one? The title track feels like a love letter wrapped in music. The guitar strums feel so intimate, almost like Roberto’s sitting right next to you, whispering stories about someone who means the world to him. There’s this rawness to the vocals—it’s not perfect, but that’s what makes it real. It’s messy in all the right ways, like falling for someone hard and fast and not caring if anyone sees it. By the end of the song, you’re rooting for this girl too, whoever she is.
Then there’s “Mucho Me Tiran.” This one hits different, trust me. It’s got this playful energy but also a little bit of sass (in the best way possible). The rhythm grabs hold of you and doesn’t let go—like those nights when you’re dancing barefoot in your kitchen because life feels too short not to. What gets me is how the lyrics bounce between teasing and heartfelt. One moment, it’s lighthearted fun; the next, it’s kinda deep, making you think about relationships and connections in a way you weren’t expecting. It’s sneaky like that.
Now, don’t get me wrong—the whole album has its charm. Tracks like “Mi Sueno” and “Mi Princesa” keep the vibe going strong, each adding their own flavor to the mix. But these two songs? They’re the ones I find myself humming hours later, even when I’m doing boring stuff like folding laundry or waiting in line at the grocery store.
Here’s the thing: listening to Mi Nina made me realize something kinda strange. Music doesn’t always have to be polished or flashy to hit home. Sometimes, it’s the imperfections—the cracks in the voice, the unexpected pauses—that make it stick. Roberto Romano might be from Italy, but his heart beats to a Latin rhythm, and that alone says volumes about how music transcends borders.
Oh, and here’s a random thought before I sign off: If this album were a person, it’d probably smell like citrus and worn leather jackets. Just saying.
