CapaRezza
Verità supposte

THE REVIEW

Actually, the most difficult album is the third one. But for Capa, the real big breakthrough is the second: "Verità supposte". A title, a statement of intent.

Few albums in Italian music are as transversal and able to speak through a megaphone the way this one does; sure, it’s rap, but it’s not 100% rap, considering all the crazy things that must have happened under our hero’s thick hair and those of his crew. A concentrate of songs that speak clearly, but never in obvious ways. Anti-system slogans are easy; Caparezza’s clarity, instead, is truly one of a kind.

"Il secondo secondo me" is a manifesto—not the album’s peak, but something that sets a promising tone, with a sly edge. "Nessuna razza" elevates the album with an extremely catchy chorus. An inattentive listener might stop at the title and consider it an anti-racist anthem, but there’s much more: here, every label is rejected in the deepest sense, within a political and cultural context that tries to pigeonhole you by force. The biting, acerbic "La legge dell’ortica" is a sharp track, but it comes right before "Stanco e sbronzo," where Capa is clumsy with his vocal delivery and "goes overboard with the weirdness," failing to neatly tie the song together. "Limiti," however, is a whole different ballgame from the opening riff: a track about childhood memories and their contrast with today's society, showing no mercy to the latter. The chorus is beautiful as well. The masterpiece continues with "Vengo dalla luna", a shining example of how the rapper from Molfetta never settled for mere slogans. This song, in fact, is a very profound reflection on the concept of racism—a piece worth studying even today. "Dagli all’untore" doesn’t start strong but picks up in the chorus, making way for the famous and enjoyable "Fuori dal tunnel." "Giuda me" doesn’t hit the mark, and to be honest, neither does "Nel paese dei balordi." The latter is actually a decent song with a nice atmosphere and just the right amount of riffing and metaphors, but ultimately doesn’t come together as a fully successful track. The final quartet, however, is textbook material, no doubt: "L’età dei figuranti" passionately slams the poor quality of TV, offering melodic ideas, followed by the peace anthem "Follie preferenziali," which seamlessly weaves verses and chorus. "Dualismi" is perhaps the most metal element on the album—a wild and extremely energetic gem. On the other hand, the highlight of pure rap comes with the superlative "Jodellavitanonhocapitouncazzo", a hilarious and dazzling masterpiece of self-irony (a definition that could serve for many great Caparezza tracks).

Musically speaking, Caparezza shows that, even if songwriting isn’t always his main strength, his taste is excellent and his listening background is extremely diverse. The album is therefore varied, ranging from pure rap to pop, from metal, even touching on folk moments. It’s certainly very vocal-driven and his voice keeps you tightly gripped, making listening almost strenuous and at times cumbersome, but that’s often the case with many rap albums. But this album is, above all, about the lyrics—it's worth saying. What more can we add? Caparezza is one of the sharpest and most capable analysts of contemporary culture, and he did it all with a surprisingly up-to-date tone.

This album, in short, defined a generation, because with its sufficiently commercial appeal, it ended up in the playlists of all the teenagers. And yet, Caparezza was much more than that. Caparezza is much more than those who don’t understand him, and much more than those who say nobody understands Caparezza. And this album—maybe not his most complete, but certainly his best—is proof of that.

"Nessuna razza, io non conosco nessuna razza vostra altezza." Score: 92/100.