Some roads lead more to a destiny than to a destination.

You reach a point in life when you realize that some roads lead more to a destiny than to a destination.
I was only 12 when music swept me away. I entered a small theater that smelled of dampness and cigarette smoke. On stage, a jazz quartet was lit by two spotlights, one on the right and one on the left; the audience was nearly empty, and some of the few who were there didn’t even seem very interested — but I believe those four on stage didn’t care at all.
A short man with strange hair was playing a double bass, slightly taller than him.
That was the first time I saw those funny expressions musicians make when they’re lost in the music, and those glances they exchange with their bandmates, almost like whispering a secret in a low voice.
That was the day music entered my life — like a pure feeling, a secret love you want to protect from ill intentions. That was also the day I decided to become a musician.
After finishing my studies, I started looking for a job in the music sector, but in early 2000s Sicily, that wasn’t considered a job — it was just a pastime. The music business was only active in Milan and Rome. I started working with some music promotion companies, first as a radio promoter, then in management. I got to know the artistic world I was so passionate about, but over time, as I learned its inner workings, some of my dreamy musician visions were disappointed.
I encountered the kindness and humility of many great artists, and the arrogance and pride of a few shooting stars — but in the meantime, my experience kept growing.
My first next-gen PC had a 4-gigabyte hard drive, and while the coffee brewed in the moka pot, Windows 98 was already connecting to the web with a 56K modem. I had the feeling — or maybe, as many say, the intuition — that everything would eventually end up inside that monitor. I decided to invest in that technology, preparing for what was about to come in the following years.
In September 2008, I decided to start a record label entirely based on the web and go in search of new talents. Many discouraged me, saying that others had tried before to open a label without significant capital and had quickly gone broke. But I didn’t care;
“What name should I give a record label? … I’m an Italian born in France, with a restless soul; sounds like a description of Amedeo Modigliani … Modì … my company will be called MHODÌ!!!”

I created the first site: mhodi.it. I posted a few ads and, unexpectedly, received hundreds of demos — many were rejected, but some piqued my curiosity. I decided to invest in only a few of them.
The first band I produced didn’t receive much attention from the public, but during the shooting of the music video, the director chose a girl as the lead actress — I wasn’t really convinced by her… today, that actress is my wife.
Several years have passed since that 2008. That idea, born as a game and named Mhodì, gradually became a company, with its own productions and collaborations abroad. New ideas and synergies were born — full of successes and failures — but always with one purpose: to carry good music forward. Whenever possible, we decided to prioritize quality over quantity, without chasing the tastes of an audience increasingly less attentive to art. This way of thinking, at times — especially in these years where everything has changed — hasn’t been easy to maintain. But together with my collaborators, with our heads down, we move forward.
I owe a lot to music. It has been close to me in the good times and the bad. It wrote my future, chose my profession, and still today it manages to intrigue and move me — like when I hold my little girl in my arms and, as I twirl her around, she says: << Again daddy, let’s dance again >>

<<Of course, Alice Melody>>