Nil Karaibrahimgil
Tek Tasimi Kendim Aldim

When faced with the offspring of an artist, I think it's quite normal to wonder if those who enjoy this definition truly possess sufficient artistic abilities to deserve a place in the artistic Olympus, or if they are simply part of it because they carry a well-known surname as an inheritance. Francesco Facchinetti, Violante Placido, Giovanna Mezzogiorno, Las Ketchup are just a few examples of the sons and daughters of art. However, in the vast majority of cases, the offspring do not even have a tenth of the artistic potential of their parents.
This is not the case with Nil, daughter of the well-known Turkish musician Suavi Karaibrahimgil: if her father is a sacred monster in the Turkish musical scene, her daughter is nonetheless a musician worthy of respect, even though her aspirations in youth were not to follow in the footsteps of her famous parent, despite having always written music.
Born in Ankara in 1976, Nil graduated in communication science from Bogaziçi Üniversitesi in Istanbul and later won some awards as an advertiser.

The turning point came in 2002. Nil released an album that compiled a selection of songs written, for fun, until that moment: thus the album "Nil Dünyasi" (Nil's World) was born, the artist's first and very successful work. It was followed by "Nil FM" in 2004, "Tek Tasimi Kendim Aldim" three years later, and, this year, her fourth work titled "Nil Kiyisinda". I chose to review "Tek Tasimi Kendim Aldim".

The album opens with a somewhat unusual track for the genre to which Karaibrahimgil has accustomed us, with a title that will certainly elicit laughter and lots of jokes: "Pirlanta" (the i is without a dot and is roughly pronounced like the French ? and means "brilliant, fascinating"). It is a very energetic piece where great space is given to percussion. Although the intro is calm, the song then unfolds into fairly fast rhythms, almost like a sort of carnivalesque ratantina. The song was chosen by Ferzan Özpetek as the soundtrack for his "Saturn in Opposition" featuring, among others, Luca Argentero, Ambra Angiolini, and the inevitable Serra Yilmaz.

Followed by "Kamikaze", which aligns more with the artist's usual style. Kamikaze is a girl who throws herself heart and soul into a relationship, knowing full well that she will most likely come out of it mortally wounded. Out of courage or recklessness, this hypothetical girl isn't afraid and, like a kamikaze, plunges headlong into the relationship.

Next comes "Siz" (you), and then "Bu Mudur?" ("Is this love?") which opens with a martial rhythm and the obsessive repetition of the word "ask" (love), where the artist resumes the interrupted discourse in "Kamikaze": a girl is fixated on finding true love, the overwhelming kind, and lives in the obsessive search for love, love, love, ask, ask, ask, asking herself every time she meets a guy "bu mudur?" - is this it?
But there is a but: modern zaman, modern times, is different from the time in which this hypothetical girl (probably Karaibrahimgil herself) dreams of living, and finding true love isn't that easy, often leading to solemn disappointments.

"Sarho" (drunk) is a delightful piece where the author plays with the sounds of her language and uses the word "çok" (very) to turn it into a drunken scream, making the piece distinctive, enjoyable, and not at all boring.

Other delightful tracks follow like "Peri", which features rapper Ayben, the ballad "Parçali Butulu" (partially cloudy) and other delightful works.

The album concludes with an acoustic version of "Bu Mudur?" and an Ozinga Remiks of "Pirlanta"..

The common thread and fundamental element of the entire album is the voice of Nil Karaibrahimgil, completely unique. Vaguely hoarse, thin and at times hysterical, it always seems like she is not able to tackle the high notes; it always seems like she is about to hit a solemn flat note, but this never happens. In this regard, although the musical genre is quite different, she vaguely reminds me of the Icelandic Björk: her unique voice and somewhat unconventional genre mean that just like with Björk, you can either hate or love her, with no middle ground. Personally, I chose to love Nil Karaibrahimgil because her works are never predictable. Percussions, melodies, and especially the sound of her voice make each track undoubtedly unique: a Karaibrahimgil song interpreted by any other artist, even one more vocally gifted than her, would lose its uniqueness.

"Nil Kiyisinda", the artist's fourth album, has just been released, which I'm about to listen to and perhaps review on this site.