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	Current EURO200
	New entries in the EURO200                                       Review for week 40 - 2025
	It’s not every day that a song enters the Euro 200 at #23 with such a distinct blend of theatricality and emotional urgency, but “Where Is My Husband!” by RAYE does exactly that. The British singer-songwriter, born Rachel Agatha Keen in 1997, has long been known for her sharp lyrical instincts and genre-blending sensibilities. With this track, she leans into a brassy, retro-infused sound that evokes the spirit of 1960s soul and girl group pop, while still feeling unmistakably modern. The production, co-handled by RAYE herself alongside Mike Sabath, is rich with horns, layered vocals, and a rhythm section that swings with purpose. But it’s the narrative that truly sets the song apart. Rather than presenting a conventional love song, RAYE crafts a kind of emotional monologue—half lament, half fantasy—about the man she’s convinced is out there somewhere, just taking too long to show up. The lyrics are witty and biting, with lines like “Wait til I get my hands on him / I’ma tell him off too,” suggesting both longing and frustration. It’s not just about romance; it’s about time, about missed chances, and about the emotional toll of waiting for something that may never arrive. The song’s title, delivered with a wink, plays into this tension. Is it satire? Is it sincere? RAYE lets the ambiguity linger. What makes “Where Is My Husband!” especially compelling is how it channels personal history into performance. RAYE has spoken openly about a devastating breakup that left her emotionally wrecked for years, and this track feels like a cathartic response—not to that specific relationship, but to the broader experience of being single, hopeful, and tired of pretending not to care. At #23 on the Euro 200, it’s clear the song has struck a chord. It’s not just catchy—it’s a character study, a confession, and a challenge rolled into one.
	There’s something hauntingly beautiful about a song that doesn’t try to fix grief, but simply sits with it. “Something in the Heavens” by Lewis Capaldi, which enters the Euro 200 this week at position #69, does exactly that. Released on 18 September 2025, it marks the Scottish singer-songwriter’s second single since his return to music earlier this year. Capaldi, born in Glasgow in 1996, has built a reputation for emotionally raw ballads, and this track continues that tradition—but with a quieter, more reflective tone. The song opens with sparse piano chords and Capaldi’s unmistakable voice, cracked slightly at the edges, as if he’s holding back tears. Lyrically, it’s a meditation on loss and the hope of reunion, with lines like “Something in the heavens tells me that we’ll be together again” offering comfort without cliché. It’s not clear who the song is about, and that’s intentional. Capaldi has said he prefers to keep his lyrics open-ended so listeners can project their own stories onto them. That ambiguity gives the track a universal quality—it could be about a lover, a friend, a parent, or anyone who’s gone too soon. Behind the scenes, Capaldi co-wrote the song with Connor and Riley McDonough, who also handled production. Their touch is subtle: strings swell gently in the background, and the arrangement never overwhelms the vocal. The result is a song that feels intimate, almost like a private letter set to music. It was first performed live in Sheffield on 6 September 2025, during the opening night of Capaldi’s UK & Ireland tour, and later filmed at Abbey Road Studios in a single-take video that captures the emotional weight of the performance. “Something in the Heavens” doesn’t try to be a hit—it just tries to be honest. And that’s why it resonates. At #69 on the Euro 200, it’s clear that honesty still has a place in pop.
	It begins with a sigh and ends in silence. “Per Te” by Ernia, which debuts this week at #97 on the Euro 200, is not just a song—it’s a confrontation with the self. Released on 19 September 2025 as the lead single from his fifth studio album Per Soldi e Per Amore, the track marks a return to introspection for the Milan-born rapper, whose real name is Matteo Professione. Known for weaving personal reflection into pop-rap frameworks, Ernia doesn’t just write lyrics—he writes emotional autopsies. The song’s structure is deceptively simple: a gentle beat, sparse instrumentation, and a vocal delivery that feels more like a confession than a performance. But beneath that simplicity lies a dense emotional terrain. “You never rewarded yourself for your achievements,” he says, addressing either a loved one or perhaps himself. The ambiguity is deliberate. Ernia has often blurred the line between second-person and self-talk, and “Per Te” continues that tradition. It’s a song about someone who struggles to love themselves, who sabotages progress, who feels alone even when surrounded. And yet, it’s also about hope—the possibility that change might come, even if it’s slow and painful. Produced by Charlie Charles, a longtime collaborator, the track avoids flashy production in favor of mood. There’s no hook designed for radio, no beat drop engineered for virality. Instead, it leans into melancholy, letting the lyrics carry the weight. The chorus, with its repeated “Fallo per te” (“Do it for yourself”), becomes a mantra—not just for the subject of the song, but for anyone listening who’s ever felt stuck in their own head. At #97 on the Euro 200, “Per Te” may not be a chart-topper, but it’s a mirror held up to the listener. And sometimes, that’s more powerful than a hit.
	It opens with a revving engine and ends with a victory lap. “Pole Position” by Luciano, debuting at #103 on the Euro 200 this week, is a high-octane anthem that blends luxury rap with emotional grit. Born in Berlin in 1994, Luciano has become one of Germany’s most prominent hip-hop figures, known for his deep voice, cinematic production, and a lyrical style that often mixes bravado with vulnerability. This track, released on 17 September 2025, is no exception. Produced by Madein2k, “Pole Position” is built around a sleek, trap-influenced beat that pulses like a race car engine. The lyrics are full of references to speed, status, and survival. Luciano compares himself to Formula 1 drivers like Verstappen and Hamilton—not just for the thrill of competition, but for the idea of being untouchable, always ahead. “Ich bin auf der Poleposition, niemals Nummer zwei,” he raps, declaring his refusal to settle for second place. But beneath the flexing lies a darker undercurrent. He speaks of demons in his head, of pain overcome, and of the pressure that comes with success. It’s not just a victory song—it’s a survival story. The music video, directed by Jakub Rzucidlo, reinforces this duality. Shot in South France and Monaco, it features luxury cars, private jets, and high fashion, but also moments of solitude and introspection. Luciano isn’t just showing off—he’s documenting a life that’s been earned through struggle. The track also serves as the lead single for his upcoming album, set to drop in November 2025, and it’s already generating buzz for its cinematic scope and lyrical ambition. At #103 on the Euro 200, “Pole Position” is more than a chart entry—it’s a statement of intent. Luciano isn’t just racing—he’s rewriting the rules of the game.
	It starts with a door slamming shut—and not metaphorically. “Serrure #5” by RVFLEUZE, LA, which enters the Euro 200 at #131 this week, is a track that doesn’t ask for permission. It barges in, kicks over the furniture, and leaves you wondering what just happened. The French rapper, whose identity remains deliberately elusive, has built a reputation for cryptic lyrics, dense cultural references, and a delivery style that feels more like a barrage than a performance. This track is no exception. The title, which translates to “Lock #5,” sets the tone: closed spaces, hidden meanings, and a sense of being trapped or locked out. But RVFLEUZE doesn’t dwell in despair—he weaponizes it. The verses are packed with references to sports figures like Duncan Robinson and Chet Holmgren, fashion critiques, and surreal punchlines that blur the line between satire and menace. There’s a moment where he casually mentions “baise Érik Satie et leurs VTT,” a line that’s as jarring as it is poetic, suggesting a collision between classical music and street culture. It’s this kind of juxtaposition that defines his style: highbrow meets lowlife, elegance meets chaos. The production, handled by Sokol, is minimal but tense. A looping synth line and sparse percussion create a claustrophobic atmosphere, as if the track itself is pacing in a locked room. There’s no chorus in the traditional sense—just waves of verses that crash into each other, each more aggressive than the last. RVFLEUZE’s voice is gravelly, almost hoarse, and he rarely pauses for breath. It’s not music designed to soothe; it’s music designed to provoke. At #131 on the Euro 200, “Serrure #5” is a reminder that not all rap needs to be polished or palatable. Sometimes, it’s the raw, unfiltered voices that say the most. And RVFLEUZE, LA is clearly not here to be liked—he’s here to be heard.
	It doesn’t whisper, it strikes. “Golpe” by Giorgia, debuting at #140 on the Euro 200 this week, is not just a song—it’s a reckoning. The Italian singer, born Giorgia Todrani in Rome in 1971, has been a defining voice in European pop and soul for over three decades. With this track, she doesn’t revisit her past—she reinvents it. “Golpe” is the fourth single from her twelfth studio album, and it’s a bold fusion of pop soul, soft rock, and contemporary R&B, produced by Calcutta and Dardust. The title, meaning “coup” in Italian, sets the tone: this is a song about emotional upheaval, about the moment when everything shifts and nothing feels safe. Giorgia’s voice, always expressive, is pushed to new places here—fragile in the verses, soaring in the chorus, and unflinching throughout. The lyrics, written by Davide Petrella and Edoardo D’Erme (Calcutta), are full of tension and poetic ambiguity. “Why don’t you come get me? No one knows how beautiful tonight is,” she sings, placing intimacy in the middle of chaos. It’s not a love song in the traditional sense—it’s a portrait of vulnerability, of two people kissing in the eye of a storm. The arrangement is equally layered. Dardust’s piano work draws from his own album Urban Impressionism, while a string quartet adds cinematic weight to the track’s emotional arc. The production never overwhelms Giorgia’s voice—it frames it, like a spotlight on a stage. And that’s fitting, because “Golpe” feels theatrical in the best way: dramatic, deliberate, and deeply human. The music video, directed by her partner Emanuel Lo and shot in Galatina, adds another layer. Giorgia appears alongside actor Vito Mancini, navigating dimly lit rooms and shadowy streets, reinforcing the song’s themes of disorientation and longing. At #140 on the Euro 200, “Golpe” is not just a new entry—it’s a masterclass in reinvention. Giorgia doesn’t just sing—she confronts.
	It drifts in like a dream, but lands with a thud of reality. “Zabiorę Cię Tam” by Fukaj & Vito Bambino enters the Euro 200 at #151 this week, and it’s one of those rare Polish tracks that manages to be both poetic and painfully direct. Fukaj, born Aleksander Wasiluk, is a rapper known for his introspective style and emotionally raw delivery. Vito Bambino, the alias of Mateusz Dopieralski, brings a more melodic, jazz-inflected sensibility to the collaboration. Together, they create a song that feels like a conversation between two versions of heartbreak. The title translates to “I’ll Take You There,” but it’s not about escape—it’s about longing. Vito opens with a soft, almost whispered refrain: “Chcesz, zabiorę cię tam, gdzie sny przychodzą za dnia” (“If you want, I’ll take you there, where dreams come during the day”). It’s a line that sets the tone for the entire track: romantic, surreal, and tinged with sadness. Fukaj’s verses are more jagged, filled with metaphors that evoke emotional distance and frustration. He raps about being treated like a backup plan, about walking through someone’s mind like a ghost, and about the pain of loving someone who won’t fully let you in. What makes the song stand out is its refusal to resolve. There’s no climax, no neat ending—just a slow unraveling of feelings. The production, handled by Charlie Moncler and Maki, is minimal and atmospheric, with soft percussion and ambient textures that leave space for the vocals to breathe. It’s the kind of track that feels like it was written in the middle of the night, when clarity and confusion blur together. “Zabiorę Cię Tam” is part of Fukaj’s upcoming album Znajdź Mnie W Tym, set for release in November 2025. If this song is any indication, the album will be a deep dive into emotional complexity. At #151 on the Euro 200, it’s not just a debut—it’s a quiet explosion.
	It doesn’t sparkle—it glows from within. “Daytona” by Aymo, Aymen & Amo, debuting at #158 on the Euro 200 this week, is a swaggering, high-energy track that turns luxury into mythology. The trio—whose names have been circulating in the German rap underground for a while—aren’t just flexing wealth; they’re rewriting their origin stories with every verse. The song is part of Aymo’s self-titled album, and it’s produced by Marco Tolo and Miceeze, two names known for crafting sleek, club-ready beats with cinematic flair. From the opening line, “Ey, komm, wir treffen uns mit Amo und Aymen,” the track sets a tone of casual bravado. But it’s not just about showing off—it’s about survival, transformation, and the strange poetry of success. Amo raps about growing up with a single mother, stealing from the class fund, and now tipping waiters with hundred-euro bills. Aymen joins in with verses that blur the line between fantasy and memory, referencing candlelight dinners in Paris and ten women waiting in a hotel suite. It’s decadent, yes, but also strangely melancholic. There’s a sense that the party is always one step away from collapse. The hook—“Ein Blick auf meine Daytona”—repeats like a mantra, referring to the Rolex Daytona watch but also symbolizing time, status, and the dream of permanence. The production is layered with trap drums, shimmering synths, and vocal effects that give the track a surreal edge. It’s not just a club banger—it’s a mood piece, a snapshot of a generation that’s both exhausted and electrified by the chase. At #158 on the Euro 200, “Daytona” isn’t just a debut—it’s a declaration. These artists aren’t asking to be noticed. They’re telling you they’ve already arrived, and they’re not leaving anytime soon.
	It feels like a postcard from a summer that never quite ended. “Lasciamene Un Po’” by Tommaso Paradiso enters the Euro 200 at #160 this week, and it’s a warm, nostalgic slice of Italian pop that manages to be both intimate and cinematic. Paradiso, born in Rome in 1983, rose to fame as the frontman of The Giornalisti before launching a solo career in 2019. With this track, he returns to the kind of songwriting that made him a household name: emotionally direct, slightly melancholic, and full of everyday poetry. The title translates to “Leave Me a Little,” and the song is built around that plea—not for love itself, but for the remnants of it. Paradiso sings about mascara smudging down someone’s face, about electronic cigarettes and drinks at the edge of the night. These aren’t grand metaphors—they’re snapshots, fragments of a relationship that’s slipping away but still worth holding onto. The lyrics, written by Alessandro Raina, are conversational and vivid, painting scenes that feel lived-in rather than imagined. There’s a line about wanting to dance with someone even if “we no longer have the physique to forget what hurt us,” and it lands with quiet power. Musically, the track blends synth-pop with singer-songwriter textures. Produced by Davide Simonetta (aka d.whale), it features soft electronic pulses, layered vocals, and a rhythm that never rushes. It’s the kind of song that feels like it was written during a long drive at sunset, with the windows down and the past riding shotgun. The chorus—“Lasciamene un po’ di questo fottutissimo cuore” (“Leave me a little of this damn heart”)—is both desperate and defiant, a final request before everything fades. The accompanying video, directed by the duo YouNuts!, reinforces the song’s mood. Paradiso wanders through dimly lit spaces, surrounded by strangers and memories, never quite finding what he’s looking for. At #160 on the Euro 200, “Lasciamene Un Po’” isn’t just a comeback—it’s a reminder that pop music can still feel personal, even when it’s dressed in synths and neon.
	It doesn’t shimmer—it flickers like a neon sign in the rain. “Shiny” by Easykid, which enters the Euro 200 at #165 this week, is a Latin urban track that trades polish for pulse. The Chilean artist, born in Santiago and known for blending reggaetón with introspective pop, has been steadily building a reputation for emotionally charged songwriting wrapped in sleek, genre-fluid production. This track, produced by DYSBIT and featured on his 2025 album I’M PART, is one of his most vulnerable yet. The lyrics are a swirl of romantic confusion and digital-age longing. Easykid compares his search for someone to hunting a rare Pokémon—“Baby, yo te busco como a un shiny”—and the metaphor works surprisingly well. The song is full of references to social media, shifting identities, and the strange intimacy of online connection. He sings about someone who’s always changing, “como un Eevee,” never quite reachable, yet always present through likes and stories. It’s a portrait of modern love that feels both playful and painfully real. Musically, “Shiny” is built on a slow-burning reggaetón rhythm, layered with ambient synths and vocal effects that give it a dreamlike quality. There’s no explosive chorus, no dramatic build—just a steady emotional current that pulls you in. Easykid’s voice is soft, almost conversational, and the production leaves space for the lyrics to resonate. It’s the kind of track that feels like it was written in a moment of late-night clarity, when everything hurts just enough to make sense. At #165 on the Euro 200, “Shiny” isn’t trying to dominate the charts—it’s trying to connect. And in a world of algorithmic love and curated personas, that kind of honesty feels rare. Maybe even shiny.
	It doesn’t unfold—it detonates. “Fellini” by Ernia featuring Kid Yugi, debuting at #167 on the Euro 200 this week, is a lyrical assault disguised as a cultural critique. Ernia, born Matteo Professione in Milan in 1993, has long been one of Italy’s sharpest pens, and here he’s joined by Kid Yugi, a rising name in the Italian underground known for his cerebral flow and gritty realism. Together, they deliver a track that’s less about cinema and more about dismantling illusions—especially the ones rappers build around themselves. The title is a provocation. Federico Fellini, the legendary Italian director, becomes a symbol of inflated self-image. “No, non farti i film, non sei Fellini,” Ernia raps—“Don’t make movies, you’re not Fellini.” It’s a line that cuts through the bravado of modern rap, calling out artists who mistake fame for immortality. The verses are dense with references: Greek and Latin culture, luxury brands, religious imagery, and even a jab at Scorsese. But it’s not just name-dropping—it’s a layered commentary on ego, legacy, and the fleeting nature of success. Kid Yugi’s verse adds another dimension. He raps about contracts thrown like rice at weddings, about driving cars that steer themselves, and about the absurdity of being treated like royalty just for making music. There’s humor, but it’s bitter. The production, handled by Charlie Charles and Dat Boi Dee, is dark and cinematic, with a beat that feels like it’s stalking the listener. No flashy hooks, no melodic relief—just tension, wordplay, and a sense of looming collapse. “Fellini” is part of Ernia’s album Per Soldi e Per Amore, a project that explores the tension between materialism and emotional truth. At #167 on the Euro 200, the track stands out not for its accessibility, but for its audacity. It doesn’t ask to be understood—it dares you to keep up.
	It doesn’t ask for forgiveness—it demands to be understood. “Raspyat’” by Greyrock, Tewiq & Madk1d, debuting at #188 on the Euro 200 this week, is a Russian-language track that feels like a confession scrawled across a wall in the middle of the night. The title, which translates to “Crucify,” sets the tone: this is music steeped in pain, guilt, and emotional reckoning. Produced by Greyrock, the song blends ambient trap textures with spoken-word intensity, creating a soundscape that’s as eerie as it is intimate. Tewiq opens with verses that read like diary entries: “My palms are full of tears, but time can’t be reversed,” he says, before offering himself up—literally—to be crucified. It’s not religious imagery for shock value; it’s a metaphor for emotional exposure, for being punished by someone you love. Madk1d follows with a verse that shifts the mood from sorrow to surrealism. He raps about mushrooms from the supermarket, TikTok flames, and the loneliness of a city that feels like a ghost town. His delivery is fragmented, almost hallucinatory, as if he’s trying to make sense of a world that no longer makes sense. The production is sparse but haunting. Greyrock uses minimal percussion, ambient synths, and distorted vocal layers to create a sense of disorientation. There’s no clear chorus—just waves of emotion that rise and fall unpredictably. The track’s structure mirrors its themes: broken, nonlinear, and deeply personal. It’s not designed for mass appeal; it’s designed to resonate with those who’ve felt the sting of betrayal and the weight of unresolved grief. At #188 on the Euro 200, “Raspyat’” is a reminder that vulnerability can be loud. It doesn’t soothe—it confronts. And in doing so, it carves out a space for voices that refuse to be polished or polite.
	It doesn’t roar—it coils. “Zły” by Pszona, debuting at #196 on the Euro 200 this week, is a song that doesn’t try to impress—it tries to wound. The Polish artist, whose full name hasn’t been publicly disclosed, emerged from a family steeped in music: his father, Krzysztof Pszona, is a respected composer and producer known for hits with Kayah like “Testosteron” and “Fleciki”. But Pszona isn’t riding on legacy—he’s carving out a voice that’s raw, contemporary, and emotionally volatile. “Zły” translates to “Angry” or “Evil,” and the track lives up to its name. It was written in a single hour, immediately following an intense personal conversation, and that urgency bleeds into every line. The song feels like a freestyle, but it’s more than that—it’s a purge. There’s no polish, no pretense. Just a voice trying to make sense of itself before the silence sets in. The lyrics are direct and bruised, circling themes of self-doubt, emotional exhaustion, and the fear of becoming someone you don’t recognize. Jakub Laszuk, a guitarist and producer known for working with Matą and Smolasty, handled the production. His approach is minimal but piercing: sparse guitar lines, ambient textures, and a rhythm that never settles. It’s not built for radio—it’s built for headphones, for late nights, for moments when you’re not okay and don’t want to pretend to be. The accompanying video, shot in Józefów among the wooden świdermajer houses, adds a layer of quiet melancholy. It’s not flashy—it’s intimate, rooted in the artist’s own environment. At #196 on the Euro 200, “Zły” isn’t just a debut—it’s a rupture. Pszona doesn’t ask to be understood. He dares you to feel what he felt, even if it’s uncomfortable.
	It doesn’t flirt—it provokes. “Hai Tu Maria” by Ursaru, debuting at #199 on the Euro 200 this week, is a Romanian urban pop track that dances on the edge of satire and seduction. Ursaru, whose real name is Manu Ursaru, has carved out a niche in Romania’s digital music scene with a style that blends reggaetón, trap, and Balkan flair. He’s not just a performer—he’s a provocateur, and this track proves it. The lyrics are bold, cheeky, and deliberately over-the-top. Ursaru compares the titular Maria to Nicki Minaj, praises her for her “wild” energy, and throws in lines about dancing in the trunk of a car and making fried potatoes like a true “țiganca mea.” It’s a mix of street slang, pop culture references, and exaggerated romantic imagery that feels more like a character sketch than a love song. There’s humor, but it’s laced with tension. Is Maria real? Is she a symbol? Ursaru never tells us. He just keeps repeating “Hai, tu Maria,” like a spell or a dare. Musically, the track is built on a reggaetón beat with Latin urban influences, produced by Basa, who also co-wrote the song. The rhythm is infectious, but the vocal delivery is what gives it bite. Ursaru’s voice is raspy, playful, and full of swagger. He doesn’t sing—he performs, leaning into every syllable with theatrical flair. The production is tight and polished, but never sterile. It leaves room for personality, for chaos, for the kind of energy that can’t be faked. The video, directed by Albert Căpătan, amplifies the song’s eccentricity. Maria is portrayed as a hyper-stylized figure—part femme fatale, part neighborhood legend—while Ursaru struts through surreal scenes that feel like TikTok fever dreams. It’s not subtle, and it’s not trying to be. At #199 on the Euro 200, “Hai Tu Maria” is a reminder that pop doesn’t have to be polite. Sometimes, it’s more fun when it misbehaves.
	Look at last week's reviews here
	"The Hitmaster: mastering the rhythm of chart-topping hits."