Chi se ne frega della musica [English translation]

Who cares about music?

[Who cares] about all those books on music?

[Who cares about] all those interviews, all those reviews1

all those careerists, careerists, careerists?

Music is not my final target2

as my penis’s [pee], me standing in front of the water closet [, when] lights [are] off.

I easily contradict myself,

but I do it so often that this makes me consistent.

I have a lot to say ‘cause I have not so much to do,

You envy me, you smile me, you offer me a deal:

let’s start with Fabrizio de Andrè’s [songs] topics,

and end to starve on Celebrity Survivors.

Does everything I do get appreciated?

No, only my face gets recognizable.

The ones that “start foaming at the mouth”

are as double-sided as Ashura Danshaku3

They talk to me like a big brother,

and they film me wearing only my pants as in Big Brother.

The video that they produce while I’m licking a chamber pot

has more views than the original one by my Record label.

Who cares about music?

[Who cares] about all those books on music?

[Who cares about] all those interviews, all those reviews

all those careerists, careerists, careerists?

Who cares about music?

‘Cause everyone is talking about music!

[Who cares about] all those artists, all those disks,

all those hisses, all those hisses, all those hisses?

I don’t understand those Social Networks,

I think that their only aim is to do nasty things in bed4.

Each time a new [On-Line Community] platform comes out,

it’s like an already-read book.

Furthermore I do not have all those friends, but several less:

they give me a sign of affection but then they slice me like Goemon.

Hey you! You’ve been talking to me for two hours: I’m a Ghandi fan guy,

and that’s the only reason why I haven’t punched you yet!

My mobile rings every two minutes,

People tormenter me, they ask me if I have two minutes:

they are local political authorities, collectives, trade unions, journalists,

and the next day my ass pain is greater.

I’m amazed, My new album is released,

And they make public photos of me, Why? I don’t understand!

Hey, are you not interested in my recored notes?

Well, you’re more interested on… when I go to detention!

Who cares about music? [Chorus]

I don’t do music, I do whatever I want,

I make the music categories lovers consume with envy,

I do not talk badly of one of my colleagues, either real or presumed,

But I do a new Christmas gift from it.

I do not take drugs as Syd Barret,

I do not like red carpets’ photoflashes,

I don’t care about true artist

because they are as real as the Muppet Show puppets.

In this mechanism that I cannot jam up

the [people on Social] Networks are not a dictator5, even if it pretends to be like that.

On the top of digital record charts

there are only the musicians that win talent shows!

And I cannot sing, that’s it, but most importantly

I cannot cry in public for increasing the number of the audience!

Take out all those things, maybe I’ll stop for a while,

but I’m never gonna shoot myself in a hotel room!

Who cares about music?

[Who cares] about all those books on music?

[Who cares about] all those interviews, all those reviews

all those careerists, careerists, careerists?

Who cares about music?

‘Cause everyone is talking about music!

[Who cares about] all those musical hirelings,

of all those musical programmes,

of all those artists,

of Pizzi6, of Battisti,

of Zanicchi, of Stravinsky,

Thin Lizzy, Limp Bizkin,

of The Beasties, of The Extreme,

of The Lipps Inc., of Springsteen.

Hell yeah, Who cares about music!

1. Originally in the text: “magazines”, that in Italian rhymes with interiews2. Originally: “I have nothing to do with music”3. Caparezza quotes Mazinger Z. A similar image is Janus Bifrons.4. The intended meaning is: “get easily laid”5. literally, Che Guevara6. Pizzi, Battisti and Zanicchi are (old) Italian musical artists.

• Artist:Caparezza
• Album:Il sogno eretico