Click-Head: «For me, the illegal and style are the true essence of this culture»

Yo Click. Your EP Truth Hurts/Click Kills produced by Lunar just dropped. Can you tell us how and when the idea for this EP came about and the meaning behind the title?

Hey guys, first of all, thanks for the space. If no magazine like Throw-Up had interviewed me, I would have been worried! Over the past four years, maybe even more, I’ve dedicated a lot of time to rap. I’ve done a lot of features and dropped singles here and there. Over time, I’ve written quite a few tracks and verses, but I could never bring them together into a cohesive project because there was always something that didn’t convince me, and I didn’t feel ready to release. Even though I had written on incredible beats and recorded a ton of demos, it wasn’t until LUNAR, a longtime friend, played me some beats and gave me the opportunity to record with him that things changed. For some strange reason, with his beats, all my uncertainties about my verses disappeared. After just two sessions with him, I was clear about the kind of beats I wanted to rap on, wrote new verses in record time, and the result is this EP. I’ll keep working with Lunar; it feels like the chemistry between us is similar to the one between RZA and Wu, or Muggs and Cypress Hill, or Sine and Noyz, or Don Joe and Dogo.

The title comes from the fact that I kept doing tags like “click kills,” and those two words really complement each other (kind of like how the crucifix represents Narcos Rap, to give you an idea). In one track (Vincent Gigante), I came up with the slogan “Truth Hurts,” which is just a saying. Truth Hurts also ties in with my graffiti. I once did a wall with two crucifixes, and it felt stylish and meaningful, especially thinking about all the painful truths in my life. But in the end, it’s also about how I’ve reacted and killed the monsters whose corpses I still drag around.

What musical and artistic influences shaped this project? And what can you tell us about Lvnar and the sonic direction you wanted for this project?

Let me try to explain. I’m 41, so I listen to the music I grew up with—the stuff people in their twenties in the early 2000s listened to, and later, fell in love with 90s rap. I wanted the sound to be true to my roots, but as fresh as possible. I didn’t want to copy Griselda or make drill music, and I didn’t feel credible doing that. I like the 2000s sound, the Ruff Ryders stuff, The Lox, the solo projects of Wu artists, Alchemist’s albums, G-Unit’s sound, Dirty South vibes, Dipset, the Oriette, Noyz Gast Mystic, Chicoria, Club Dogo. Tracks like Labyrinth and Vincent Gigante were written over Master P-type beats, and Crooks and Castle was written over an Hot Boys beat—basically, the stuff Lunar and I love. Every time we find a beat that excites us, we save it and send it to each other. We have a chat full of exciting links. When I’m hyped, I sit down and finish verses that take me forever when I’m unsure, but when I’m fired up, I close them in half an hour. It takes a while to get to a great 16-bar verse, but when Marco sends me the right beat, I smash it and finish the tracks.

“How did the feature with Gast come about? And what can you tell us about your brotherhood with Doye?”

Gast and Doye were the two rappers I wanted on this record. Doye is from Saronno, twenty years younger than me, but for some reason, he grew up listening to the same music I did. He dresses like me, likes the same things, and we’re from the same place. It’s like having a younger twin who skipped the graffiti part but is insanely good with the mic. He’s perfect. From there, it was easy to make Problemi & Polo.

Gast was a dream. We have mutual friends, and I wrote BUM LIFE, a track about living on the streets and still staying fly, in our own way, without being loaded with money but rich in resources. He could have said no, but he liked the vibe of the track, and he recorded his verse in an hour on the day Muggs was performing at Biko. I LOVE THAT TRACK.

Can you talk about the artwork for the album cover? Some elements remind us of the covers of Ice T and early 90s gangsta rap groups or early 2000s South, maybe with some metal influences… what inspired you here?

So, the title is based on two connected claims. Initially, I wanted to do something with crosses, but everyone’s using them now. Behind this cult is Pietro Mazza. I think he’s the best graphic designer in Milan, and he blessed me with his help. We went through books of tape covers, chopped ‘n screwed, and I had a lot of saved references, many related to NYHC, which is very tied to graffiti culture. We used a “truth hurts” digitalized from a sketch of a wall I wanted to do at the time, and played with flower crowns and funeral crosses. Pietro did magic by combining the “truth hurts” phrase with a “click kills” he created himself, very classic. He put everything together, and the result is powerful. Soon, the merch and physical CD copies will drop, with a surprise for Christmas. The cover’s mood is very early 2000s, capturing the gangsta and rebellious vibe of those years. Pietro Kills crushed it.

For those who don’t know you, they may not realize that, besides being an MC, you’re also a writer… and not just any kind of writer. Can you tell us more about when and how you got into graffiti and this culture? Do you belong to any crew?

I’m not too fond of the term MC, I don’t feel up to it. I’m a graffiti artist who raps (quote). I started rapping before I got into graffiti, but it was really difficult 20 years ago. I’ve always struggled to be so organized and patient enough to make a record. With graffiti, I could write anywhere. Graff life gave me experiences I could later use for my bars. For me, rap and graffiti are the same thing—they give me the same feeling. I got into both when I was 13. With graffiti, all I needed was spray cans and a wall. I’ve always drawn all day while listening to rap. Who had friends with studios and beats to rap over? I just listened to a lot of rap, freestyled, and wrote bars here and there. I let the strong guys rap seriously. I kept doing my thing until I felt like it could really work. I thank Shin, Lunar, Rage, Plato, Doye, Pessimo, Santo, Skinny, Noyz, everyone who told me, “This is fire, you have to do it!”

My crews are TBS, just a bunch of guys from Saronno, old angry derelicts; B&H, which has a different name now, with some people in or out due to personal paths and situations; Ay crew with people from all over Italy. A shoutout to everyone I’ve painted and formed bonds with, even if they don’t belong to a specific crew. These bonds have lasted for over 20 years in some cases.

Both in your music and graffiti, your hardcore underground mentality shines through. What drives you to represent and bring this philosophy into your art? Do you believe the illegal is the true essence of this culture?

The thing is this: as long as I could live off clothes (which is another huge passion of mine), I’ve always painted, done graphics, and rapped like everyone else, without making money, working as a laborer or at a supermarket. It wasn’t a job, it was a necessity. I didn’t care too much about reaching certain levels, I just had to do it. When it became a job, like with clothes, things became difficult in my personal life. Maybe I can’t handle the pressure, I don’t know. But I never stopped writing my name or my bars. Many wrong choices.

Now, with what’s most important to me in life, I’m struggling to make ends meet. Even though I’m in a rough patch and don’t have a job, I keep pushing. I live day by day, and if I don’t say this in rap, where else can I say it? In the streets with banners tied to the fence in Saronno? Nothing. This attitude comes from my life experiences—mistakes that I’ve paid for and still pay for. At least I feel free to say everything, and the result is this.

Yes, the illegal and style are the true essence of this culture, at least for me. The more I’ve been down, the more I’ve found things that gave me strength, even though I’ve never won anything in my life.

From the stories you tell in your lyrics and simply reading your eyes, it’s clear that you’ve had a difficult past, with some shadows… Would you like to share something with us? How, if at all, has music or graffiti helped you??

As I said earlier, I’ve messed up everything I’ve built in my life multiple times, I’ve hit rock bottom, and I’m still doing backflips to pick myself up. Graffiti and music are ways for me to believe in myself. They’re probably the only things I’m good at. Or at least, they’re the only things that have never abandoned me; they’ve never let me down, not even in my worst moments. I can’t explain it. Addiction sucks, I won’t add anything else. Graffiti is a drug that, instead of taking something away, has given me something. Rap is the same. I hope I’m not exaggerating by talking about drugs. Sometimes the line is thin, like in 10 Crack Head’s Commandments, for example, which is a critique of people who rap about selling crack. I don’t believe them, I know it’s not true—at most they smoke it, they’re fakes. “WHAT THE FUCK PYREX, YOU’RE 6 PEOPLE WITH HALF A GRAM, A SPOON WITH THE STASH.” In Labyrinth, the feeling of “not being able to get out” is explained more clearly.

Struggle is real.
The rest of the tracks are all about style and balls.

Lunar is filling me up with beats, I’m writing some features that will come out gradually, and I’m working on new stuff for Christmas, and especially for early 2025. This EP is giving me a lot of satisfaction, but I wake up in the morning trying to focus only on the next project and use this small victory as a springboard for the next mission. It’s like graffiti, my best piece is the next one. I just want to do better than I’ve done so far. I hope to perform, sell physical copies, and merch so I can live more decently in the near future.

THE TRUTH HURTS
CLICK KILLS