Fabri Fibra
Guerra E Pace

Fabri Fibra is back... again, and in a way that (almost) no one would have ever bet on. It is now well known even by the trees that what our dearest Fabrizio Tarducci (aka Sfiber aka "Fibroga - quoting a line from "Io Non Ti Invidio" -) is chasing is what all our local rappers in the Italian scene (with Club Dogo leading) dream about, namely money. But there's the kind of rap that lets itself be carried away by the charm of the almighty dollar and produces commercial rubbish like tunz tunz tunz parapara tunz tunz tunz and tries to pass it off as hip hop just by talking about chicks and drugs, only to satisfy an audience of wannabe gangsters with gold chains strolling down the street praising Emis Killa and such, and then there's the rapper who manages, however, to compose (which is quite a big word for a rapper in general), or rather to write intelligent lyrics that at first glance might seem written by a kid in reform school, but actually hide various meanings, and if you then add impactful production... and especially TALENT (a term nowadays too often applied to reality show "singers")... then you have to think again.

"Guerra E Pace" is exactly this: a modern, powerful, intelligent, fresh album; a flawless production, a handful of successful singles, and finally... the name Fabri Fibra. All this only serves to increase the curiosity of both fans and non-fans about how this work will sound. According to my tastes, this album is noticeably superior to "Controcultura," because it follows a more logical line, while the previous one seemed a bit too self-stumbling. Of course, the Fibra of "Turbe Giovanili," of "Mr. Simpatia," of "Tradimento" and of "Bugiardo" (I'm not even counting CVEFB) is by now but a lovely memory. Now even he has evolved, like many rappers, and whether for many he has gotten worse or better is just a matter of taste. Today Fibra seems less angry and more focused on telling us the truth about this country: no more lyrics about teenage love ("Momenti No") or rants against the female sex ("Gonfio Così"), Fibra is now seen as a kind of "prophet" (????) of rap, one who knows what people like and can sell without problems, (with "Tranne Te" he nailed it completely), but who sometimes manages to break out of the mold of the classic "commercial summer hit," which is usually present in all albums ("Applausi Per Fibra," "La Soluzione," "Vip In Trip") to devote himself to deeper lyrics that deserve more attention and that, coincidentally, are the ones too often underestimated.

"Guerra E Pace" is a highly underrated album. It's true that Fibra's flow may no longer be as sharp as it once was, and his "rapping" style is simpler and less incisive, but who cares? If the lyrics work (and they do) and the beats are impactful, who cares that Fibra no longer sings songs like "Vaffanculo Scemo" or "Mal Di Stomaco"? Fibra is the most popular rapper of our time (along with ehm...Fedezzzz....and Salmo!), and everyone has tried to tell him to change, but he's always done whatever the hell he wants... and has shown how to get away with it without ridiculing himself, also because a Fibra who even today in his prime years and with the cash he has sings "Non Fare La Puttana" isn't exactly the greatest thing in life. But now let's analyze the album: After a brief intro, "Bisogna Scrivere" opens the show. The piece is highly enjoyable thanks also to a catchy, very melodic chorus (based on a text by Baustelle). "Voce" is similar to "Bisogna Scrivere," but has an even more impactful chorus to sing until you're sick of it: a well-done piece, though not the best on the album. And here comes the first hot collaboration, namely "Che Tempi" with Al Castellana, one of the best singles on the album, where Fibra talks about our days compared to the past to make us understand that now we are "all against all"... precisely. This is followed by the launch single, "Pronti, Partenza, Via," an almost nightclub song that mentions various freemasonries, with nevertheless a humorous text made thanks to many word games directed at the usual politicians ("we go through seas and mountains"). In "A Me Di Te" it seems like dealing with Mr. Simpatia again, this time against Valerio Scanu. A track more than avoidable in my opinion. "Non Correre" is one of my favorites, although I don't feel like saying it's the best, with a chorus that vaguely recalls the old hits of Gabry Ponte and co. "Tutto In Un Giorno" features a slow but very sharp dub-step base, with lyrics about myths and their tragic deaths. More than sufficient piece in my opinion. "La Solitudine Dei Numeri Uno," with an almost Gorillaz-style base, is a song much overlooked but in my opinion intelligent (which somehow takes me back to the times of "Turbe Giovanili"). "Panico," in collaboration with Neffa, is a great piece with an old-style base and more than adequate lyrics. "Frank Sinatra" is the most electronic of the album, a solid and ear-piercing base, where Fibra identifies with a robot. "Raggi Laser" and "Nemico Pubblico" are the lowest pieces on the record (of the latter I save only the lyrics). "Non Credo Ai Media" is a more than good track, which goes against journalists and newscasts, but nothing exciting. "Guerra E Pace" opens with a catchy chorus, and features lyrics that at first glance seem trivial but are actually perhaps the best on the record: the lyrics talk about Fibra's career and today's singers, which seem to have been written almost by another rapper (listen to believe). "Alta Vendita," "Centoundici" and "Ring Ring" are purely commercial pieces: the first is very enjoyable, the second of great impact, the third has a great beaten base wasted. The record closes with "Dagli Sbagli Si Impara," with the chorus sung by Elisa, the quietest song ever made by Sfiber, which talks once again about Fibra's past and his mistakes.

Result: it's a successful album, almost summery, and once again looks at rap as a futuristic music, at least in this country. (If anyone was bothered by this last comment, feel free to reply without various insults or idiotic comments, thanks).