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Songs From Lovely Ukraine

DakhaBrakha, Light (2010)

 

By no means is this your grandmother’s Ukrainian music. There are aspects of pop here, but it’s certainly not as uncomplicated as run-of-the-mill pop music. File this one under ‘international’. I hesitate to use a title so stupid and so unremarkable.

 

Fortunately for the listener, Light is not unremarkable. The record mostly avoids the traps that releases in this category routinely succumb to. The sound of this release is dizzyingly eclectic. Its eclecticism, however, stops plenty short of contrivance. Thanks be to God. The buffet-style tackiness typical of many ‘world’ records is not in evidence here. What we have, rather, is a solid assortment of variations on accessible Western themes as filtered through the techniques of skilled Ukrainian musicians.

 

The vocal delivery on ‘Tjolky’ could be mistaken for something blasted from a stereo in a slammed-to-the-street cutlass in east Los Angeles. ‘Karpatskyi Rap’ employs the trusty boom-bap rhythms of classic hip hop with verses punctuated by emphatic ‘woos’ and ‘yeahs’. Much of the sonic fare in Light is quite familiar to the ears of the contemporary Western listener. Only the noises are being produced by a group of especially talented Ukrainians in peculiar garb. Three indefatigable ladies in tall bearskin hats and a hundred pounds of beads draped round their necks, and an accordion-playing man in a tailcoat and riding boots. Like Lady Gaga, it looks way weirder than it is.

 

The record opens with ‘Sukhyi Dub’, a sauntering, Waitsian track featuring male vocals barked through a loudspeaker and female sing-talking. The cello parts, both fingered and bowed, give the track an ominous, carnivalesque vibe. If you hate clowns or hairy women, steer clear. Then comes ‘Specially for You’, another darklit track. This time, Marko Halanevych begins in his sweet, slightly off-kilter falsetto. There’s a gradual intensification in the arrangement, and the previously gentle vocal turns guttural. The track builds to a fever pitch that lasts only a few bars but pays off handsomely.

 

The songs in this collection that affect the listener incorporate the same fundamental units: delicate tripartite harmonies brought into relief by simple rhythms and the complementary pulse of Nina Garenetska’s cello and Halanevych’s accordion. Light is, all in all, a good, sometimes great, record. With the exception of the final two tracks. These dawdle and dawdle and will doubtless test the attention of an unmotivated listener. Outweighing these soporifics are two really exceptional tracks: ‘Kolyskova’ and ‘Baby’.

 

The former has a circular structure that gently gathers momentum, turn by turn upon itself. The track is graced by a trebly piano bathed in soft reverb. I think I can hear all four members contributing vocals to this one. The female parts give the impression of a bird call, at key points echoing to and fro, from the left to right channels of the mix. The rueful refrain, ‘a time to laugh and a time to cry/a time to live and a time to die’, has a Byrdsy ring to it. Kind of like a ‘Turn, Turn, Turn’ kumbaya hippie monism thing going on. I can dig.

 

‘Baby’ is a special track. The instincts of the herd are on point. If you want to experience this song as it ought to be experienced, find a live performance. Really. The studio recording is gorgeous, but it helps to peep the actual physical life conjuring this piece into spacetime. Halanevych sings the ‘baby, show me your love’ part in his oddball falsetto. He’s backed by the three queens, who make a damn persuasive gospel choir.  There are poignant bits of electric guitar on this track, and harmonica. Both are subtle but spacious, giving the track a certain Lanois-era Dylan timbre. In my estimation, the constituents of this track shouldn’t jibe but they do. After Halanevych’s part the gals bust into sung-recited verse à la M.I.A. Their part swirls and ascends and keeps ascending. Add in a short breakdown midway through the track. Rinse and repeat. ‘Baby’ is sublime. Definitely worth the price of admission.  -Josey