RARES - Sincero!

Three years after “Femmina”, Rareș Gabriel Cîrlan takes his third step along the trajectory begun in 2020 with his debut “Curriculum vitae“, which had already won him attention for his unpredictable way of reshaping and modernizing Italian pop. The following album was an effective production on a sonic level, undoubtedly his boldest to date, but the overall discourse sometimes felt not quite in focus. This new set of songs, while embracing pop's reasons with sincere commitment, retains that touch of eccentric, restless fragility that is perhaps the most appealing aspect of the artist and his songwriting.
These are love songs. Truly an introspective, and in some ways even philosophical, inquiry into the feeling of love, its symptoms, its phenomenology. Rareș focuses above all on the point where love stops matching expectations and instead breeds dependency, separation anxiety, fragility and contradictions. There's no room here for abstract romanticism. “L’amore è un’altra cosa/ Ti prendе e ti sposta/ Dal posto alle ossa/ L’amore è un’altra cosa”. So, when a relationship ends, the chosen tool for processing the grief becomes inhabiting its unfolding in search of one's truest self.

This path doesn't isolate its young author's sensitivity, but rather places it at the center of a desire concerning the world.
A tracklist this light and touching all at once generates a genuine sense of communion. The songs on “Sincero!” will resemble you, whoever you are, and it's precisely in this openness, implicitly in dialogue with the listener, that their most substantial beauty lies. The advice is to listen paying attention to the words, to their confidential register, lucid and dazed, philosophical and irrational at once.
The music is one with this search for the empathy of the essential, so the work of subtraction must have been truly meticulous, even though the compositional vein remains oblique, both in the catchiest episodes, like “Gatti” and “Robina”, and in more abstract, suspended pieces like “Giorni di sole” or “L’amore è un’altra cosa”, produced together with the ever more accomplished Okgiorgio. Alongside the artist during the making of the record were also his trusted collaborator Novecento and Marco Giudici; Giovanni Truppi duets on “Strappacuore”, while Faccianuvola (another highly recommended listen, which we greatly admire) appears on the splendid “Hanno previsto pioggia”.

It's a world that will greatly appeal to anyone who loves and listens to the digi-folk intimacy of Bon Iver, but there's also, and this is very Italian in the singer-songwriter sense of the term, a crepuscular grace, dense with micro-events, symbols, of, to use the author's own words, robine ("little things"). And so it is that the smaller things are, the more they set off nameless flutters in your chest. They thus become relevant “robine”, and with them the words that tell of them. “Non so cosa ho fatto, quanto ti ho dato, se ti ho dato, almeno/ Spero ti rimanga di me qualcosa, almeno una cosa sincera/ Ti sento urlare, vedo è un riflesso fermo dentro alla sera/ Il coltello dalla parte del manico/ Fammi del male che almeno io mollo la presa”.
Rareș manages to sing and write about interiority in a credible and engaging way, but what makes the storytelling even more distinctive is, woven throughout, its generational dimension. The romantic expectations inherited from the adult world prove just as illusory as those concerning work, money, and the chances of achieving one's dreams and goals. Too many certainties have crumbled everywhere. Forever? This record suggests not: you have to roll up your sleeves and start over. From love of life, from oneself, and consequently from a self that can serve as the foundation for the collective “we” still to be rebuilt. Steps oriented toward a tomorrow suggested to us by the inner substrate of a young, necessary record.

From an interpretive standpoint, the album also marks a clear break from the artist's previous work, driven by expressive urgency. “Con la Madonna davanti/ Ho detto a tutti i santi/ Che tengo una strada a memoria/ Dеntro il cuore, a memoria/ Non so più mica ascoltarmi/ Se non mi piaci o mi piaci/ Lo dеvo chiedere agli altri/ C’ho un avvocato nei campi per/ Arrivare e partire/ Arrivare e partire/ Arrivare a dire il vero, sincero!”
It's as if Bon Iver's reprocessed ups and downs met the disheveled elegy of the most sentimental-freak Pop X and the aching grace of an “Arrivederci”, or a “Se ti perderò” sung in Italian by Chet Baker. Hearing is believing.
Songs that listen rather than explain, whose language dwells on a deeper, more exposed level than that of rational elaboration. Their fragility is also their strength, their loneliness the most communal of moods.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

17/08/2026