Marracash
Persona

The fortune of having made the fortunes of Italian rap is something that, fortunately, happens to only a few unfortunate ones. Marracash is named Fabio Rizzo and if you haven't laughed about it yet, one day we will meet, and I will shake your hand. The fact is, ridicule or not, he is the only credible face of Italian rap born in the 2000s and a child of the '90s, in the sense that Jake La Furia has become Enzo Salvi and Guè Pequeno a Daddy Yankee from a Milanese all-you-can-eat buffet.

Fabio, but let's call him Marra, is today THE face of Italian rap (the misfortune mentioned earlier), starting from the small squares of Barona to reach, like the most classic of Fabri Fibra, the armchair of Daria Bignardi. Unlike Firbroga, continuing to spit rhymes on beats, Marra has achieved a credibility that, at eighty years old, still allows him to appear on magazine covers wearing a velvet Prada jacket and a python draped over his shoulders. His is that ghetto-chic image, a halfway between the street corner and Via Montenapoleone, that so appeals to the bourgeois-intellectual milieu because it makes them feel part of something, something low, urban, but still aiming at the comets that cut through the sky in promiscuous nights. He, of course, has never shied away from this type of attention and the result, inevitably, was "Persona," published like six months ago.

With its witty little songs titled after body organs, this album is the Focus Junior of Italian rap, where, despite a perfect non-love song like "Crudelia," the thing you'd want to see fastest is the final page with dumb games like find the following words in the grid of letters above, in spite of all the images of Jamaican owls and new corkscrew-shaped planets you find in the pages before. Listening to this album, with its profusion of rappers, little rappers, and big rappers, to which is added Jovanotti 3.0 (meaning Cosmo), has the effect of generating the biggest maybe next time because now I'm doing something else since that awful Virzì movie.

The fact is, dear Marra, while you believe you're Biggie, you're really Severgnini. And those times you think you're Galimberti, well, maybe you are, but your audience consists of people who get off on TikTok, or alternatively those who find that getting off on TikTok has a sociological element because they are, in their own way, "a product of our times." So, well, there you go. In the middle ground, that is, everyone's land, in prime time on Rai Uno, here you have the king of rap.