Sadistik
Ultraviolet

In the mill I would want, SURE AS HELL, I DON'T WANT ANTONIO BANDERAS WITH HIS DAMN CHICKENS. No, in the mill I would want, expectations should be erased. Take Banderas: make a thousand movies and then you find yourself flirting with a chicken. Well, that's not great!

You have a dad like Roby Facchinetti and you expect the son to do great things, only to find yourself dealing with Dj Francesco and realize that life is a bitch, oh so much. Screw Captain Hook.

Maybe you meet an insanely hot blonde, you try some feelings and you build some castles in the air: plan dinners, afternoons in the park, vacations and then FUCK EVERYTHING COLLAPSES. Except that she's hot and you're a fool. I'm a fool. OF COURSE.

The head of nothing remains me and no one else. I have a boundless ego, but I'm on the verge of collapse. Going around clubs with my company to kill the demons the devil throws at me: fuck you shit, you can have my soul, but my fucking ego is mine alone. And even here, selling your soul to the devil thinking you’ll get something amazing and then find yourself at 40 snorting cocaine with your 7-year-old son bugging you saying "minchiajonny pa, fork over the cash so I can buy FIFA 15!"

"You know, life gets better when you believe in love." Hah, I do believe it too, it's only that love doesn't believe in me. And even here, thousands of expectations about finding the woman of your life and then, once you meet her, doing everything to make her end up hating you, leaving and leaving you alone with your guilt alternating with delusions of grandeur. Damn expectations, damn Saturday in the Village....

Sadistik: and damn it, I've said nothing. Well, Sadistik is THE rapper: deadly flow, huge technique, and profoundly deep lyrics. A damn good rapper in essence, torn by his failed relationships, his father's death, and heroin abuse. Our guy likes to sting himself with the sword. GOOD JOB FOOL. Well, since his discography speaks for itself, it was logical to have exaggerated expectations about this Ultraviolet: FOOLS! Let's be clear, the record isn't bad, but it's certainly far from being a masterpiece. Opting for more minimalism (so dear to rap), at the expense of those sound orchestrations (still present, albeit fewer) that made his previous works great, was not such a wise move. The problem indeed lies in the productions, sometimes too dull; sure, Sadistik does everything to enhance it, but alas, even though he shines like a star, his efforts are of little use. The record sounds cohesive, but as time goes by, it becomes monotonous, until it fades out. However, there are tracks of great depth: from the cyberpunk fury of the opening Cult Leaders to the heavenly Into The Night, a genuine journey into a nighttime metropolis, not forgetting of course the frigid ambient of Blue Sunshine, for the writer, the best piece on the album. No less intriguing is Orange, almost following a trance line, or the incredible Chemical Burns in collaboration with the late Eyedea, who delivers one of the best verses of at least the last 10 years.

In short, a thousand expectations and then everything collapses. Everything goes to waste, and there's nothing you can do. Well, actually, there's something you can do: like I should stop self-sabotaging every attempt to grasp a quarter of happiness and stop thinking about annihilating everything. Because that's my problem and I know it is for many of you: seizing a thousand opportunities and when the one that really counts arrives, blowing it all up. A rule. THE REASON WHY WE ARE BASTARDS, AND SO, MY BROTHERS, LET'S EMBRACE THE NIGHT, SEEK A LITTLE FREEDOM ON A DANCE FLOOR IN THE COMPANY OF GRIGNANI WHO, WORSE THAN A VACUUM CLEANER, SUCKS UP ALL THE COKE, AND LET'S SLOWLY CONSUME OURSELVES IN FRAGILE SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS UNTIL THE MORNING ARRIVES TO REMIND US HOW STUPID WE ARE!!!

It's all a matter of expectations: even death, which is so scary, will be much less than how they have put it down for us. Little Horn's word. If I were you, I wouldn't trust me.....