Como is not a party. It is a long lunch that becomes a long evening, conducted mostly outdoors, at the speed of a boat with the engine off. The music has to behave accordingly.
The mistake is to programme Como like a holiday. It is not a holiday; it is a rhythm. Mornings belong to the water and to whoever is making the coffee. Afternoons belong to nobody. Evenings belong to the terrace, and by then the music should have grown a shade darker and a shade slower without anybody noticing it happen.
What follows moves in that order — from the first cup to the last glass. Play it in sequence and you will find the weekend organises itself.