Marta sui Tubi
Sushi & coca

Year of our Lord 1979. A great local singer-songwriter, with his trusty little hat, was singing through the streets of the city like this:

"Milano close to Europe
Milano with banks that change
Milano open legs
Milano that laughs and enjoys itself
Milano at theater
an ole' from a bullfighter
Milano that when it cries
cries for real
Milano Carabinieri Police
who look serene
close your eyes and fly away"

2008. Marsala, Sicily. Four men return to the scene of the crime, giving us lyrics that owe much to the aforementioned:

"Milano sushi & coke
Milano pays and screws
Milano that has no patience
Milano and its air of superiority
Milano with crises of conscience
Milano with withdrawal symptoms
Milano a sigh at San Siro and a shot in the evening"

Ladies and gentlemen, these are Marta Sui Tubi.

And as usual, reviewing one of their albums is never an easy feat. Whether it's because the music they make falls into a category that might best be defined as "uncategorizable." Or because they are a group always capable of surprising, in every piece of work they release. Or because the composed Giovanni Gulino, the semi-metalhead Carmelo Pipitone, the lunatic Ivan Paolini, and the "virtuoso" Paolo Pischedda have transformed their native land in an astounding way, from the minimalistic and almost entirely acoustic "Muscoli e Dei" to the poetic and reference-rich "C'è Gente Che Deve Dormire." Or because their shows are always entertaining, original, and delightful (who doesn't remember the "Marta Sui Ghiacci" initiative from a few years ago?) and are hard to describe. And then… who knows for what other "wants."

The fact is that perhaps Marta is not of this world. And "Sushi & Coca," the third studio work preceded by the DVD "Nudi e Crudi" released shortly before, is once again a concentration of pure madness. The basic element that has always characterized the band from Marsala. What is always expected from them. And that, for equal opportunity, is received.

It ranges from Caparezza-like tongue twisters (the mad "L'Unica Cosa" and its mantra "You can become anything you want") to a kind of crazy folk punk ("Dominique (Canzone Di Gelosia)", with an almost Patton-like final scream: "And if I ask you to go out with me? NO!!"), from a sudden psychedelic experiment (the title track) to angelic voices coming from who knows where ("Non Lo Sanno"), not to mention the presence of violins and cellos ("Pensieri A Sonagli", with the collaboration of Trio Cane), rock guitar riffs ("Licantropo": "I speak badly... but I think worse"), intimate and suspended interludes ("Lauto Ritratto") and strange existential doubts ("La Spesa", "L'Aria Intorno"), perhaps unsolvable, perhaps trivial, and at the same time serious in their banality. Featuring a song whose video is one of the most interesting among Italians in recent years ("Cinestetica": "I saw saints devoted to me becoming sluts in two minutes after meeting my best friend")

Their best album? An album inferior to the previous ones? Who can say. What is certain is that once again, the quartet's (now quintet's) courage is astonishing, always intent on trying new ways of making music, without fear and without shame. And they sing it to us themselves:

"The only thing you must do... is to smash your fears!"

Exactly.

They are Marta Sui Tubi, folks, whether you like it or not. Listen to them, or ignore them, it's up to you. You'd be missing quite an opportunity.