Fabri Fibra
Tradimento

THE REVIEW

There are wonderful things about Fabri Fibra, some a bit less so. There are things people like and things they don't. It's comforting to know that rap can boast artists like Fabri who create "new" things, at least in Italy. But it's also disheartening to know that for this, he must squeeze malice at all costs and machismo.

Fabri steps out of the typical Gangsta mold (thankfully) and wallows in malice, cynicism, and realism, as he knows how to do, with excellent metrics and some of the best lyrics around. Unfortunately, all this negativity leads nowhere. I appreciate the fact that Fibra does not take a stand against piracy and is proud of his own inconsistency and "betrayal." That's how it should be: a true artist doesn't need rules or roles that imprison him for life, killing him.
But despite the affection for Mr. and songs like "Rap in guerra," there are truly terrible things about "Tradimento." The worst of these is the vitriol against women reminiscent of early Eminem. Songs like "Su le mani," "Ogni donna," and "Coccole" (which stands for Zoccole), become annoying and quite pathetic. They seem like the outbursts of a loser who can't get laid.

Pieces like "ogni donna sogna un pappone" are horrible. In "Coccole," for example, with insignificant rhymes and suddenly poor metrics, Fibra acts as a spokesman for the dying male. Perhaps he belongs to one of those ridiculous "preservation" circles for men. Other songs, like "Applausi per Fibra," "Tutti In Campana," "Rompiti il collo," seem like songs made just to fill space and make the masses move their asses.
It's a shame because there are songs that are worth it, like "Rap in guerra" where there's even a small homage to the late Carlo Giuliani, and "Sono un soldato," suspended between real war and rap war. When Nesli appears in "Vaffanculo Scemo" or you reach fantastic songs like "Idee stupide" with Diego Mancino, it's too late. Because the banality of the CD, with its raggaeton-like beats, all those virile and Latin "oh-oh-ohs," the homophobia, and machismo, and too many ideas thrown in carelessly and for pure market demands, have already clouded your ears, and affection for the character isn't enough to save this CD.

A disappointing CD that leaves you speechless, not because of MTV, not because of the "betrayal" (which is actually a spot-on move), but due to the decay, squalor, and banality. If you're used to Turbe Giovanili, even the "brilliance" of Mr. Simpatia pales before the decline of this record, which to many might seem like a big novelty and a big deal, but to me, a Fibra fan for three years, seems like the last sad whimper of a rapper who no longer knows what to rap about, clinging to machismo, news stories, and self-pity to save himself.
A depressed individual looking for a last way out through the market, gratuitous malice, Latin rhythms, and the tactic of "slashing the canvas," now overused and as old as the world.

What a shame. A real shame.