I've been following him for weeks – as long as he can, that is, nobody to follow this merry-go-round of statements, which is something between wild haval and nervous delirium anyway.

In the beginning, it was Iliad's fault ("I won't be upset, if something happens before the final" "I don't know the lady, I don't know her songs"), then mario ("He shouldn't sing rebetika"), then Mazonakis, ("He can't sing"). Then deal with Kiamos, Phoebus ("He turns on the computer and writes fifty songs"), he grumbled at Angeliki and Thomas who forgot, says, to congratulate him, scolded Lazopoulos because the sound in "Tsadiri" was not good and Koza Mostra was discredited, he cursed the journalists who attack him and a disembarker who hinted that he should cut off his mustache and he smashed the windows with Zafiris Melas ("He's a stink dog and a half"). Who's next next?; Merkel, elvis, God, i know, the whole world.

You will tell me, they ask him. And since they ask him, he answers. What I don't understand is why Mr. Agathon Iakovidis (which has a history as well, from,what does it look like, respectable musical education ), considers, how every time a camera turns on him, it should "pop" like a flash-bang grenade. He thinks the noise is good for him; He has collected them for so many years and now the time has come for him to say them; He's a dude and doesn't mince his words and publicity stunts, where everyone supposedly gets along with everyone, he eats them for breakfast; The shock wave of sudden publicity, it's loud and has him a bit dazed; The rebetis and alternative is different; He was born nervous; Unknown.

I guess some people find this whole one man show amusing. Yesterday, to be exact, I heard Giorgos Tsalikis shouting "forget Agathon, set him free we'll have a good time". Not that it surprised me. I know this first hand, how this kind of daring liberalism, which does not obey showbiz "norms" and reminds of "disguised", ordinary people, "sells". That's why she's so attractive to the media - just as nice and happy as a baby playing with his ball, in the middle of the clearing with the hungry tigers. you are welcome, Nevertheless, don't laugh mr. Jacobides, In your baglamadaki, I swear to you, when the Eurovision perch falls, those who now turn up the volume on the microphones and are annoying, they will make you pass like a graphic, grumpy old man. That's how it happens, thus ends this project: at the end, everything, someone is eaten. Usually, the cat.

Source : yupiii.gr