2001 Odisea en el lodo

Defining rap as the reiteration of a chorus, beats, sound boxes and attractive female vocals is a slap in the face and moreover, an injustice to the genre. On the other hand, to throw up words indiscriminately one after another, inlaid by force, just because they sound similar or subordinate the form (the rhyme in this case) to the message, telling of childish and immature gang rivalries, is to diminish the rap to the level of anecdote, ignoring its essential quality, the one that brings it near poetry. Only unusual, real talent has the capacity to make you reflect by using apparently trivial word flow, which acts like a key that opens doors before your mind can see them. And 2001 Odisea en el Lodo is just that, a set of rhymes over heavy rhythms, moving unhurriedly, with the ability to freeze the listener's grin that they themselves provoke. On this third work by the Sevilla duo shines the group's most apparent proof of a lyrical talent, accentuating the beautiful, well-built rhymes instead of cocky stories that end up, almost always, destroying their beauty (in case they had some beauty). The nature of the rap, based on the spoken word, thanks to the deep voice and the soft Andalucian accent of MC Zatu (not as neutral as the accent of other Spanish inland bands, nor as excessive as the accent of many other bands who emerged from the fertile suburb of Pino Montano, Sevilla) which confers an extra degree of art and, at the same time, keeps SFDK away from the parody. What particularly sticks out in this album is that it includes two or three cuts that, apart from revealing the aforementioned astonishing lyrical skill, brilliantly reflect on some quite deep subjects. "Esta Canción Va Dedicada," which speaks about the achievement of dreams, contains some of the best rhymes in Spanish rap "quién te lo iba a decir/que una vida llena de espinas me obligó a escribir como un fakir"; "después de ver que lo que sube baja/cogí un cd/le hice una raja/y me escondí entre el bombo y la caja." The spectacular piece "A Dónde Van," describes, over Carlos Cruz's Spanish-guitar base, the obscure fate that life has prepared if you give up the day-to-day fight. "El Liricista en el Tejado" (The Lyricist on the Roof) is another example of a wonderful base full of trumpets with awesome verses: "aplaudid mis depresiones que en papeles congelo." Other songs with a remarkable word flow are "Yo Contra Todos" and "Despedida y Cierre."

2001 Odisea en el Lodo, characterized by the scant presence of choruses (that seem to be placed just to better digest the vast quantity of fantastic rhymes) approaches the mainstream but the band has remained more faithful to the quality of the pioneers who lit the fuse of Spanish rap back in 1991, El Club de Los Poetas Violentos and 7 Notas 7 Colores. According to one of the lyrics from "El Liricista en el Tejado," this album also shows that SFDK knows what the rap is all about (or what it is not about, at least): "si el público se queja de una canción sin moraleja/desde el tejado les lanzo una teja" (If the audience complains of a song not having a moral/I throw them a tile from the roof).