Kaos
Post scripta

Let's put it this way: if I ever embarked on an endeavor as foolish as it is pointless, such as compiling a hypothetical list of the ten greatest Italian rappers of all time, I would certainly place Kaos at the top. For that unmistakable and inimitable voice, hoarse and scratchy, that evokes anger and lived experiences from the very first listen. For the impeccable technical skill never (and I emphasize: NEVER) an end in itself in stringing one image after another. For the historically anti-easy listening, anti-plastic music, anti-lame rhymes attitude. And also because since I would be the one compiling the said list, I would put on top whomever I please (no matter what people say).

A career now reaching a quarter century, without ever giving in to easy compromises with passing trends, ghetto wigs, and media-domesticated audiences. Someone who, for their own success (the album under consideration here, stayed for several weeks at the top positions of the I-tunes Rap chart), owes nothing but thanks to the liters of ink and tons of paper consumed over the years. However, it can happen that after so much writing, one sits and rereads all the sheets filled during sleepless nights. And decides to add a postscript to what should have been their farewell work. I don’t know whether to believe in the definitive and unappealable retirement from the scenes or not. Also because since '99, in the final track of his albums, he has subtly hinted at it. Only to reappear a few years later, with a new work that both old and new listeners invariably welcome with joy.

The one I am holding in my hands at this moment came out just over a year ago. It's an EP of eight tracks, masterfully produced by Dj Argento and Fid Mella. But let’s be honest: a Kaos record could even come out on basement-made beats with a tape recorder and a Bontempi keyboard, but those who listen to it do so 90% to hear what he has to say. And once again it's a pleasure to listen to it, whether he's basking in his chronic pessimism or railing against alleged puppeteers of the system, or expressing his desire to end the hitches of a lifetime. Maybe he even tells us about a love (or something like that... The lyrics lend themselves to more than one interpretation) that ended badly. But with what style and grit he does it, guys. Always deep and introspective, never trivial. A guarantee since '96. Let's maybe forget about the records with English rhymes, alright. Since he's already heading off (but will he really leave...?) to retirement, I wouldn't want it to end between him and the loyal listeners (the term "fan" really gets on my so-called nerves) like most divorces: forgetting how many good moments were spent together and reproaching each other for every single misstep. Thank you Marco. We’ll miss you (if you don't come back...).