Fabri Fibra
Chi vuole essere Fabri Fibra?

The way I discovered the release of this album was almost traumatic: while channel surfing on TV, I stumbled upon MTV with a video where I recognized the pathetic voice of Federico Zampaglione, from Tiromancino. I hurriedly changed the channel when I spotted a famous bald head and, as time passed, an equally famous voice... no, it can't be him: and yet it's actually Fibra, rapping on a Tiromancino song, with an extremely slow flow and terribly banal rhymes. I immediately rushed to the Internet and found out that on April 10th my favorite rapper's CD was released, or rather, CD+DVD: the album is accompanied by a kind of documentary of just under an hour that includes interviews, pieces of private life, preparation for the new CD, and anything else that might interest a true fan of the Marche region rapper.

Having bought the package, at the price of 17 euros, I immediately shelve the DVD and focus my attention on the CD, which already feels like a rip-off when, reading the song list on the cover, I count 10 tracks and no longer the 18-20 we were used to, plus it lacks historic collaborations, like those with his brother Nesli, but so be it.

At first listen, one is quite bewildered: the beats, as always curated by Big Fish, are explosive, but what disappoints are the lyrics—angry, scratchy rhymes, provocations we had grown accustomed to and now sorely missing. The rhymes often turn out predictable, and the collaborations are so scandalous that one breathes a sigh of relief when Fibra's voice is heard again.

The album opens with the title track "Chi vuole essere Fabri Fibra?", in collaboration with Daniele Vit: it has a catchy chorus that gets stuck in your head, even though the rap is nearly non-existent and the track leans more towards a summer hit than a rap song. The following "Dieci euro in tasca" is supposed to be a denunciation of the crisis (at least according to the author), resulting in a nonsensical song that, unlike the first, is not even appreciated for the chorus; "Speak English" is the best song on the album, in which the real Fibra is recognizable, the one who makes you laugh with his biting rhymes, comparing English (especially sexual) habits to Italian ones. "Donna famosa" has the peculiarity of ending with a piece of one of his concerts, but that's about it. The fifth "Via vai" is another gem where Fibra jumps from topic to topic explaining the hustle and bustle in his mind: really nice.

"In quel posto" is a useless and rather repetitive track, while "Extralarge" hits rock bottom: someone should remind him what a rhyme is, which is not achieved by repeating the same word twice and that "baggy pants" doesn't rhyme with "Bob Marley." "In testa" is a track full of anger sung with Noyz Narcos: gratuitous, fake anger, almost prescribed by contract, but it doesn't make an impact. "Alla fine di tutto questo" is perhaps the most autobiographical and heartfelt track by the author, who wonders what will happen when the curtain falls on him to a melancholic rhythm.

I won't talk about the first single and last song of the CD "Incomprensioni" because I'd be too harsh, although I like to point out how 6-7 years ago he mocked Tiromancino in "Mr Simpatia": who knows if it will be the prelude to a future collaboration with Michele Zarrillio, so reviled in this latest work.

In conclusion, the impression is that it was a rushed job to strike while the iron is hot, that is, to exploit the Fabri phenomenon while riding the wave of success. Finally, it's worth noting the obsession with self-referencing, repeating "Fibra" an impressive number of times, a fixation already noticeable in previous works but worsening in this latest case.

"Chi vuole essere Fabri Fibra" is hopefully just a minor misstep and not the beginning of a sad and premature decline.