“This will be a different album from the others, the time has come to convert” he starts with a Statement, with a manifesto in “Gospel”, Shiva's new album.
The rise and fall, and then the rise again, are no longer biblical parables but a fusion between confession and marketing strategies or, in the case of Andrea Arrigoni, scars displayed like war trophies.
With “Gospel”, Shiva attempts a piked somersault, trying to transform his life into trap hagiography. It's a record that exudes wet asphalt and synthetic incense, a work where the muscular posing of West Milan clashes with a search for redemption that seems sincere, but still filtered through a pair of overly expensive sunglasses.
The opening is a manifesto: “V for Gospel” is not just a song, it is a declaration for those who wanted it finished. Shiva takes back the scepter using the concrete jungle as a pulpit, speaking to the losers who have chosen to win, but he does so with a new awareness. There is the fear of dying, the terror that history will be written by others, the refusal to kneel except in front of one's own destiny. The metaphor of the media crucifixion for “fashion” is biting, almost an indictment against a system that consumes its idols with the same speed with which it creates them.
Musically, the album led by trusty Drillionaire is a swing between trap dogma and experimental heresy. If “Peccati” and “Spie” are cannon fodder for the TikTok algorithm, pieces ready for easy moshing, effective but lacking the depth that the title of the album would demand, it is elsewhere that the work really breathes. In “Polvere Rosa”, the sound carpet is covered in gospel choirs, a courageous turn that tears Shiva from the usual 808 loop to project him into an almost solemn dimension.
There is also an echo of the nineties with synths and style in “Risorgere”.
The featurings are a mapping of power. “Obsessed” with Anna is a slightly 2000s hip hop banger, “Bad Bad Bad” with Geolier is an exercise in style: two heavyweights playing at being pure rappers, a technically impeccable piece but which smacks of a pre-planned instant classic. “Babyface” with Kid Yugi, however, releases a magnetic swag; Yugi's voice litters the piece with that freshness necessary to not make the album seem too celebratory. “Mayday” with Sfera and Lazza fortunately avoids the cliché of the summer hit to settle on a drier and more credible figure.
But the real seismic shock is the collaboration with Tiziano Ferro in “Bacio di Giuda!. A meeting between worlds that on paper should have rejected each other and which instead create an interesting short circuit. Tiziano of the early days who meets the ruler of trap, all with epic synths. It is the definitive symbol of this “New Shiva”: trap that seeks the ennoblement of auteur pop.
The emotional fulcrum, however, remains “God exists”. Here Shiva lowers his guard. The confession is brutal: the admission of having prayed only in misfortune, between the nine years of first degree sentence and the cancer of a brother. It is narcissism that crumbles in the face of reality. “I'm the wrong guy for your daughter to avoid” is no longer a gangsta boast, but a wistful realization. Here Shiva stops being a holy card from a newsstand and becomes a man.
“Gospel” is not a perfect album, it is a work full of contradictions exactly like the boy who wrote it. Continuous self-celebration but is there redemption in the end?
Perhaps. There is certainly the evolution of an artist who has understood that, to truly win, platinums are not enough: you need a soul, even if scratched, even if shamelessly exposed to the judgment of the world.
TRACK BY TRACK
V for Gospel – 7.00
Intro that immediately hits hard. It almost seems like an apology letter, but without kneeling too much. There is the weight of what he lost along the way, and you can feel it.
Pink powder – 7.75
Clean beat, runs well, doesn't tire. He slides on naturally and the chorus stays in your head without having to chase it. One of the smoothest.
Obsessed – 6.50
Aggressive banger, right vibe. The feat doesn't leave its mark as it could, while the chorus holds the whole piece together.
Sins – 8.00
Here it goes deeper. It spits things out, it doesn't stay on the surface. The voice sometimes goes too high, but when the beat changes gear the piece really takes off.
Bad Bad Bad – 6.75
Already heard this mood, but it works. Lighter, more attitude. The feat does its job and holds its own, even more than expected.
God exists – 9.00
The true center of the disc. Six minutes that pass without weighing. He lays himself bare, speaks with God or against God, it is not clear and perhaps this is the point. Choral ending that expands everything, it seems like a journey inside his head.
Baby Face – 6.75
Dark, almost cinematic beat. Dark imagery, marked identity. The chorus works, the feat is precise but it doesn't steal the show.
Spies – 7.25
Classic Shiva, but not in a bad way. Life, arrest, paranoia. In the second part it accelerates and there the piece really makes sense.
Kiss of Judas – 7.50
Unexpected but spot-on feat. The piano comes in to stitch together the verses and gives breathing space. At the end it becomes more introspective, between faith and betrayal, and that's where it hits the hardest.
Mayday – 6.50
Classic hit with Sfera and Lazza, song for the baddies. The feats keep the energy high, but it remains a piece that slips away quickly. Lazza goes straight in as usual.
Resurrect – 7.25am
It works for dynamics: solid verses, almost whispered chorus that creates contrast. The final monologue adds something, even if it borders on self-celebration.
Consciousness – 9.00
Among the strongest. Direct, without filters. Beat, words, intention: everything aligned. He's not hiding here.
TO LISTEN NOW
Obsessed – Bad Bad Bad – Babyface
