Furax Barbarossa: rhyme and black art

Unpublished article - Fanny Agostino

On the occasion of his visit to Neuchâtel for a concert at Case à Chocs, Toulousian rapper Furax Barbarossa granted us an interview just before taking to the stage. The man who wrote the interludes on the album JVLIVS and frequent collaborator with Belgium's Scylla, Barberousse's horizon is never clear. Despite his constant presence on the French rap scene, he remains one of those artists on the bangs of the music industry. The storm threatens, the eye remains on the lookout. But his fiery spirit is always present on stage. Meet the man who is considered a prose skimmer.

We know him from his lyrics. In his most emblematic title Who asks me, the performer sets the tone: «If I had to describe myself in a few words. I'd tell you: tall, schizo redhead. Screams, skulls, rhymes, blood, scissor holes.’ However, the Toulousan with Corsican origins is far from appearing like a madman: dressed all in black, Adidas socks pulled up over his training, Furax is in the corner of the room. Perhaps he's waiting for our questions. It has to be said that interviews with him are few and far between. His social network posts are discreet. Furax is not one to draw attention to himself. The black eye is attentive, wary. The man takes his time to answer, but doesn't prevaricate with his choice of words. Detours and long parables are not his style. His answers are direct and blunt, as he knows how to do when he writes.

Isolation versus confinement

Unlike other artists, Furax enjoyed a certain amount of exposure during the period of confinement. Every week, he delivered to his digital audience freestyles about a minute long. The idea was born of a feeling shared by everyone at the time: «I was at home and bored. It all started from that boredom, and since I had all the recording equipment at home, I said to myself that every Tuesday I was going to do something. It was a rendezvous with everyone [...] During this period of confinement, I suddenly gained 20,000 subscribers. People were at home, they were clicking, they were going to see what was going on.’

A success that has been transformed into a mixtape entitled «A l'isolement». On the cover, we see him doubled up in a living room, lying down with a book, suspended in the air like a yamakasi, or with his headphones screwed on, recording. In the course of short statements, Furax converses with himself, on themes that are specific to the reflection and confinement experienced by everyone: «A lot of people found themselves in the texts, but in truth these are themes that I use quite often.» He evokes death, madness, fatherhood, but also the climate of French political debate. For the rapper, these subjects are far from foreign to his other productions: «The themes I tackle on this mixtape are the same ones I tackle on my albums. Except this time, it speaks to people even more. I've also played with the fact that isolation verges on madness, with characters who are a bit crazy, who hear voices.»

An off-center relationship with «oim» writing»

Furax's rap is a far cry from the stereotypical image of the last decade, the one adored by YouTube-fed youth. The kind that stages itself in front of blocks of flats, in gangs armed to the teeth, showing off 500-euro bills and haute couture clothes... In contrast, the Toulousan rapper's universe is morbid, turned inward, of course. An introspection in which we drown, and from which we only emerge.’in extremis. This disquieting, mortuary universe nevertheless evokes a palette largely represented by rock and its sub-genres. One thinks of the listening experience offered by the album The Downward Spiral of Nine inch nails, but also more broadly to metal, galvanized by a warlike lexicon and sprinkled with funereal figures like the grim reaper or Satan.

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An incidence of the macabre more incidental than aesthetic for Furax: «It's not a calculation. I write what comes to me. I don't say to myself, »I do black, so I must always do black«. It comes from my background, especially my childhood. We all carry a weight, and I can't see myself doing anything other than this kind of music.» In his lyrics, death is a persistent refrain. Often personified, sometimes dissected, almost every text evokes it: "Death is something I'm obsessed with. I think about it every day. It's not a calculation on my part, it comes naturally. I don't think I could ever do anything else, even if my rap isn't suicidal, because there's always a note of hope."

Nervous and tense as can be
I'd rather die as a soldier than be hanged by a bunch of vermin
Go away! I'm driven by Satan, it seems
Heaven wait for me, it's a bad time to disappear
(At the dawn of hell)

Cultural appropriation? «I don't give a fuck»

Released in 2020, his latest EP Cha O Ha features an imaginary world drawn from Native American culture. Violence is resolutely present, as are themes linked to incantations and madness. The title Crazy Horse refers to the Indian figure, well known in cultural representations, notably in the golden age of American westerns. This choice is hardly surprising, given the rapper's penchant for cinematic borrowings. Certain references, all charismatic male figures, are frequently used and asserted in the lyrics, but also in the clips. These include the visuals for Mona Lisa where Furax plays a gentleman gangster, or the figure of the impetuous Viking in The weight of evil.

The artist's avowed taste for the seventh art did, however, come up against a problem. To promote the title Crazy Horse, the artist showed himself in a video clip dressed as an Indian. His body appears on screen covered in black paint, his head adorned with a feathered headdress. His gaze is off-axis, frightening. This depiction of a Native American figure drew criticism: «My label was forced to forbid the clip from being broadcast. Crazy Horse in Canada because there were complaints, even though he's an Amerindian.» A controversy little understood by the Toulousan, who prefers to assert his choices: «Some guys wanted to surf on history. I'm sorry to have shocked them, but I don't give a damn. I'm a filmmaker, and if you stop making westerns, you stop everything. Cultural appropriation has its limits. I didn't want to offend anyone, and if some people felt offended, too bad.»

I am the sound of the tomahawk opening, lifting skulls
me, do me wrong tomorrow, don't even think about
Nah, me cut off torso and put hand in pale face
You'll have to flee the city, where death stalks unceasingly as the evening falls.
(Crazy Horse)

Flow and existence on the razor's edge

Furax devotes his energy to other priorities. One of them will seem enigmatic, given the rapper's solid foundation. Apart from writing and performing, the man has long juggled his status as an artist with contingencies: rapper by night, lorry driver by day. Before the onset of the health crisis, Furax had decided to devote himself fully to music. It's a decision that's still hard to stick to today: «For the last three years, I've been an intermittent performer. It's not going to last, because it's a precarious situation and I don't earn a living. I'm clearly a poor man in France, earning less than 1,000 euros. euros a month, and that's not sustainable. I'm going back to work.»

This uneven existence is also reflected in the lyrics. As for the EP Cha O Ha, This fragility is tangible in the threat that seems to hang over the atmosphere. Flat Line and Long Fleuve Tranquille evoke the precarious balance of existence: «Life is like Russian roulette every day. That's what can happen to all of us, we can leave at any moment. Flat Line, It was a play on words between the thread on which young people have fun balancing and the continuous line on the oscilloscope when a man dies. Life hangs by a thread.»

I'm one of those who live balanced on the taut strap
One foot in front of the other, I move along the tightrope
These people swinging from left to right seem to me to be hanged.
(Flat line)

Yet the artist can count on his fans. Very active on social networks, they often punctuate the performer's messages or videos with comments fueled by regret at not seeing their favorite artist take off. While Furax is delighted by this unfailing support, he nevertheless feels the need to distance himself from them because of social networks: «The support of my fans has been important, but I'm a pretty sanguine person and one comment can ruin my day. A clown who doesn't know what he's talking about, who doesn't know me and who judges my life and my past can ruin my day very quickly. I don't read comments anymore and I don't bother with feedback.»

However, Furax remains active on Instagram, where he feels the atmosphere is healthier. In fact, it's on the Facebook-owned platform that he's won many of his fans. followers during the lockdown... before having her account hacked: «I lost everything I'd earned during the lockdown. I worked a bit for nothing but I don't care, I'm not an influencer. Even if it's my weapon of war, because people will base themselves on that... Today, I'd have 50,000 followers. If people see that there are 50,000 followers they take you seriously, whereas 27,000 is the average guy.’ This race for followers seems to him to be the new standard of credibility for increasing notoriety in music: »Today, it's image that counts, you can't go out with a guy who has 200 followers when you've got 200,000. That's the problem in music, but also in everyday life; the poor don't mix with the rich.«

The years have gone by, and despite numerous misfortunes, Furax Barbarossa is always there. Proof of this came that evening with his show of just over an hour, accompanied on stage by 10vers and Toxine, with whom he has worked for many years, notably with the Toulouse collective Bastard Prod, whose emblem is a three-legged dog.

Perseverance and enjoyment of the stage 

The casualness with which Furax answers the interview contrasts with the pleasure he takes on stage. Far from being able booker his dates as he pleases, the pirate sails to the rhythm of the chorus of Who's asking?I don't choose where I play, I don't have that luxury. I respond to a request. I come with my heart, because the stage is my passion.« That evening, his hit song will be taken up by the whole audience, plus a few spectators who will come and perform the song on stage with the rapper.

If you haven't already done so by the time you read this, the successor to Testa Nera - released in 2014 - should be about to be available: «The next album is in the mix. It'll be ready in a few weeks. We're working on music videos. The cover is finished. We've never been so close to releasing the project. As for me, I'm still writing almost every day, and I'm already preparing the sequel.» A sequel that will perhaps enable the Toulousan to reach the heights he's been hoping for for years, without betraying his dark, raw writing, carried by a guttural, mechanical voice that we like to think is above all driven by the verve of being alive.

I can't do without the man, keep your coils up
Big, it hits like Canelo, I send fat from dawn
My rap sounds like a mechanical press, I don't know if you can hear me
I'm a thick brute, my canines protrude from my chin
(Mechanical press)

Write to the author: fanny.agostino@leregardlibre.com

Header image: Furax Barbarossa in Neuchâtel, February 2022 © Adrien Faivre pour Le Regard Libre