The catalyst for his return proved unlikely: a 2024 poetry prize for his piece "Mediterraneo," followed by nostalgic television programming about 883. Sometimes art requires such serendipitous nudges. "Non fare rumore" – literally "Don't make noise" – operates with delicious irony, as this collection of indie-pop and rock tracks does precisely the opposite of its title's gentle suggestion.
The album's central mission – illuminating "situations, things and people that exist and that sometimes we pretend not to see" – could easily descend into hectoring social realism. Yet Iberico's approach proves more sophisticated. These eight stories (including the previously released "Gaza") function as discrete vignettes rather than chapters in an overarching manifesto. The artistic restraint demonstrates understanding that effective protest music must first succeed as music. "Aborto" strikes like a thunderclap, tackling domestic violence with unflinching brutality that recalls the most potent protest songs of the 1970s. The track's title alone signals Iberico's refusal to dance around difficult subjects, and the execution matches the boldness of intention.
"Il corso del Sole" finds the artist grappling with mortality and the inexorable march of time, themes that could easily collapse under their own philosophical weight. Yet Iberico's melodic sensibilities prevent the songs from becoming overwrought academic exercises. The production, developed in collaboration with Christian Gheno, serves the songs rather than dominating them – a rare quality that speaks to artistic maturity.
Perhaps most striking is "Gaza," which attempts the near-impossible task of humanising geopolitical tragedy through the lens of three children caught in conflict. The ambition alone deserves recognition; that Iberico largely succeeds in creating genuine emotional resonance without resorting to exploitation marks him as a songwriter of considerable promise. The track functions as both lament and manifesto, avoiding the pitfalls of sanctimony that often plague well-intentioned political music.
"Filo di Arianna" ventures into equally treacherous territory, exploring depression and the desperate search for psychological anchor points. The mythological reference – Ariadne's thread that guided Theseus through the labyrinth – provides elegant metaphorical framework without obscuring the raw emotional core. Mental health remains one of popular music's most challenging subjects, yet Iberico navigates these waters with both sensitivity and honesty.
The album's genre-blending approach – shifting between indie-pop accessibility and rock's more aggressive textures – could have resulted in stylistic confusion. Instead, the varied sonic palette serves the emotional topography of the songs. When gentleness is required, Iberico provides it; when situations demand urgency, the music responds accordingly.
His background encompasses the full spectrum of musical apprenticeship – from childhood stages through the alternative rock outfit The Iced Tears, where he served as vocalist but not lyricist. Those years of interpretative performance appear to have taught him restraint; "Non fare rumore" never feels like an explosion of pent-up creative energy but rather the measured output of someone who understands the difference between having something to say and needing to say everything at once.
The album's greatest strength may be its refusal to provide easy answers. Iberico presents situations and invites contemplation rather than delivering sermons. This approach requires considerable confidence from a debut artist, yet the restraint pays dividends. Listeners are treated as collaborators in meaning-making rather than passive recipients of instruction.
Minor criticisms centre on occasional moments where ambition slightly exceeds execution. Certain tracks might benefit from more adventurous arrangements, and the vocal delivery, while sincere, sometimes lacks the dynamic range that could elevate good songs to great ones. These are quibbles rather than fundamental flaws.
"Non fare rumore" announces the arrival of an artist unafraid to engage with the complexities of contemporary existence. Ritrovato has crafted a debut that manages to be both deeply personal and broadly relevant, intimate yet universal. The album succeeds in its apparent mission: making considerable noise about things that matter, delivered through songs that linger long after the final notes fade.
The project's recent expansion – May's football anthem "Aquile" dedicated to his beloved Catanzaro – suggests artistic confidence beyond the album's thematic constraints. With recording for his second album scheduled for June 2025, Iberico appears positioned to build upon this solid foundation.
For a first effort, this represents remarkable achievement. The foundation has been laid for what could develop into a significant artistic voice, provided Ritrovato continues to trust his instincts while expanding his sonic vocabulary. "Non fare rumore" makes precisely the right kind of noise – urgent, necessary, and impossible to ignore.