Damiano David is bent double over a large glass table, gleefully snorting an imaginary line of cocaine. His Måneskin bandmates – bassist Victoria De Angelis, guitarist Thomas Raggi and drummer Ethan Torchio – collapse in fits of laughter around their frontman, each one pretending to wipe the nonexistent powder off the table in their rented LA flat.
David is playfully reimagining the Italian rockers’ most infamous moment: hours after winning Eurovision 2021 with their pogoing glam-rock stomp Zitti e Buoni, in front of a global audience of 183 million, footage circulated of David appearing to snort something off a table in the green room. The images quickly went viral, with Emmanuel Macron reportedly calling for the band to be disqualified (France’s entry was in second place). In the end David offered to take a drug test, which cleared him of any wrongdoing; the results are still pinned proudly to his fridge at home.
“I think the view people have of us, and of me, it’s very off-target,” David says now, his usual rock star uniform – Gucci-styled 70s glam idol mixed with Rocky Horror Picture Show vamp – replaced by an oversized beige sweater and a violent cold. (Every band member is struck down with it, rendering a grey-looking Raggi almost mute.) “People think we behave like the Sex Pistols, or Mötley Crüe, but we’re nothing like that,” David continues. “We’ve got more educated on the risks of drugs and how they affect your body. I don’t even drink alcohol any more.”
“At the time we got so upset about it and now we don’t give a fuck,” smiles De Angelis, the band’s most outspoken member, sat looking resplendent in an Italians Do It Better T-shirt.
David, however, is having none of it: “No, I am still upset about it, actually. I think it’s dumb to tarnish the victory at Eurovision. I think we should go back and hand flowers around.”
Måneskin, despite their throwback vintage rock vibe, represent a very modern take on the rock’n’roll mythos. Prior to Eurovision – a DayGlo pop jamboree not renowned for its links to rock excess – the band gained notoriety via Italy’s version of karaoke conveyor belt The X Factor. Their origin story has led to some music purists taking umbrage at the band’s success, with their CV now including two UK Top 10 singles, more than 4bn streams, multiple world tours, a collaboration with Iggy Pop, plus a support slot with the Rolling Stones in Vegas.
“Some of the stupid comments we get are probably because of [having done The X Factor and Eurovision],” shrugs De Angelis. “People are so narrow-minded that they can’t see beyond the idea that if we went on Eurovision we must be shit. They can’t listen to our songs with an open mind and judge them based on what they really think.”
On their highly anticipated third album, Rush!, Måneskin’s first since becoming one of the few new rock acts to break through globally, the band can often be found grappling not only with the speed of their ascent (hence the title), but also a complicated relationship with what rock’n’roll means in 2023. “The whole concept of rock music is not conforming to what society would love you to be,” De Angelis says. “It’s ignoring those made-up rules and being yourself. We don’t think real rock music is about these stereotypes of the sex and drugs and rock’n’roll lifestyle,” she continues. “It’s about expression and creative freedom.”
Still, Rush!, which was mainly co-produced in LA by Swedish hitmaker Max Martin, is stuffed with songs about sex, drugs and, indeed, rock’n’roll, but often with a twist. While lead single Supermodel criticises, rather than valorises, LA’s vapid party scene (“Everything [in LA] is so huge and big and wants to impress you, it’s all showing off,” sniffs De Angelis), the band confess to having enjoyed at least one A-list schmooze with Coldplay’s Chris Martin, who invited them over to his and girlfriend Dakota Johnson’s house for breakfast.
“Dakota cooked us eggs, Chris didn’t cook,” remembers Torchio.
“He was enjoying the moment,” suggests David.
Supermodel also references the band’s apparent drug of choice, cocaine, as does the frenetic Bla Bla Bla, though it largely serves as a warning of sorts, as David sings: “I’m too drunk and I can’t get hard.” “It happens when you drink too much,” the 23-year-old shrugs, ignoring his bandmates’ giggles. “Even when you haven’t had a drink. [That song] is a mixture of honesty and putting on ‘crazy guy’ shoes. [That character] says some things I would never say.”
Perhaps the best example of stereotypical rock’n’roll swagger arrives on the ludicrous Kool Kids, a punky marauder that finds David aping the spit-flecked delivery of Slowthai. “That [was written] three days after Eurovision so our feeling was: ‘Fuck off, we won and everybody has to eat our shit,’” David says. “Before Eurovision we went through a very tough year; everybody was trying to stop us doing this kind of music and doing Eurovision. Nobody believed in us. So we had this feeling of being the underdogs that won.”
That feeling has helped cement Måneskin’s sibling-style bond. It’s been fostered since they formed at high school in Rome in 2016, with David, De Angelis and Raggi coming together after their various other bands didn’t work out (Torchio was later recruited via Facebook). “I remember when I started playing guitar at school, everyone was like: ‘Oh my God, you play electric guitar. Are you a lesbian?’” De Angelis says. “It’s all these stereotypes you know.” Suddenly her eyes dart around the room. “But then actually they were right,” she adds with a huge roar of laughter.
The band, named after the Danish word for moonlight (De Angelis is half-Danish), would quickly garner similar reactions across Rome for their style, which often involved every band member donning makeup. “I remember even when we were busking or playing at school parties everyone always looked at us like freaks,” says De Angelis. “This gave us even more of an attitude of wanting to tell them to shut up. Growing up and being inspired by a lot of the artists from the 70s, the glam, it showed us something we hadn’t seen.”
In 2017, the band appeared on The X Factor, eventually finishing second and landing a chart-topping album in Italy a year later. “When we went on The X Factor we were the first rock band to [appear], but we just played as if it was our own show,” De Angelis continues. “We didn’t have to change.”
While more success quickly followed in Italy, including five Top 10 singles in two years, the band say they felt a shift at home after Eurovision sent them interstellar. “We’ve always been very dividing,” David says. “There are a bunch of people that love us and are very proud of what we’re doing, and then there’s a whole other part made of conservatives and traditional rock’n’roll fans and fascists that hate us with everything they’ve got. Then there’s this conspiracy building up … ”
Everyone at the table looks bemused.
“What?” splutters Torchio.
“Yeah, guys you have to be informed,” snaps David. “It says that we’re getting famous because we’re being paid. That we’re working with the Italian government to share this gender-fluid culture!”
“A lot of people are really proud,” De Angelis says. “But Italy is a very conservative country and they’re intimidated by the fact that someone can wear makeup or high heels or appear half-naked or not be straight. But fuck them.”
This passion for nudity caused problems last August when the band performed at the MTV VMAs, where they won best alternative video for single I Wanna Be Your Slave. While David donned a dog collar, leather chaps and buttock-revealing thong, De Angelis covered one nipple with a silver star before her top slipped down revealing the other one to be unadorned. Cue lots of hastily edited aerial shots to save everyone’s blushes. “We’re too hot for US television,” smiles De Angelis. “It’s so stupid because they want to appear so open-minded and then they get scared about a pair of nipples. There is this difference between men’s and women’s bodies and how you’re perceived and sexualised all the time. Everyone has nipples.”
“It’s very clear the different standards people have because I was literally butt-naked,” adds David.
Perhaps it’s no surprise that a band whose success was forged in controversy are now under the microscope. For David and Raggi, the band’s straight contingent, there have been accusations of queer-baiting, thanks to their penchant for sporting makeup and experimenting with a more fluid style. “There are some cases where it happens, but sometimes [the accusations are] so extreme,” says De Angelis. “It’s stupid for queer people, who should fight these stereotypes, to label it as this and create more hate. The fact [Raggi and David] are straight doesn’t mean they can’t wear makeup. Or heels.”
David agrees: “Everything me and Thomas do is always filtered by two people who are [queer]. Of course we don’t experience the same stuff, but we live every day very closely with people from the community.”
They are keen to also deflect their spotlight on to more immediately concerning issues, with Rush!’s throbbing Gasoline – performed at last September’s Global Citizen festival in New York – aimed at Putin (“How are you sleeping at night? How do you close both your eyes? Living with all of those lives on your hands?” run the lyrics.) The song, they say, is a message of support for their Ukrainian fans. Rather than shy away from politics, the band see it as entwined with who they are. “Everything you do as an individual is political,” says David.
For now, however, they are keen to get some sleep. There is a discussion around how much time they’ve had off since winning Eurovision in 2021, with the general consensus landing on about two weeks in total. With another tour booked for this year, including a sold-out show at London’s O2 Arena, and a Grammy award to fight for (they’re nominated for best new artist), their schedule seems unlikely to let up any time soon.
“Two weeks off in two years!” repeats a dazed David shaking his head. Rock’n’roll stops for no one.
Rush! is out now.
