Label: Celinka
Release date: February 8, 2021 (digital) / May 2021 (vinyl)
Production: Janez Dovč
Genre: Folk/World Music/Pop/Art Rock/Jazz Fusion
Rating: 9.5/10
Janez Dovč is a major name on the Slovenian music scene. He’s the boss of the Celinka label, which mainly focuses on backing acts that weave the riches of Slovenian folk music into their artistry in one way or another, and above all he’s an incredibly interesting musician. The past decade especially is the one in which Dovč, with his hard work and staggering commitment, put his name on the albums of a whole heap of projects and bands, as well as solo outings, which is also documented by his excellent album Akordion (2015, RockLine review). Sounds of Slovenia is just one of Dovč’s project ventures, and it’s where his musical vision takes center stage. The man casts himself as the project’s artistic director and chief conductor. The album “Sozvočja”, released under the banner of this project, can be linked straight away to the release of “The New Slovenian Resonance” (2014, RockLine review).
So what’s the deal? If 100 years ago Slovenes were fascinated by the fact that flowers don’t bloom in winter and that a shepherd’s crook is harder to lose from your grip if it’s curved, then today’s way of life, compared to those very innocent times, is a whole different kind of animal.
“Sozvočja” continues the story of its 2014 predecessor and is a fresh, fascinating document of the harmonious flow of many musical horizons that have overlapped and shaped the musical pulse on the sunny side of the Alps over the centuries. Right up to today. It’s an echo of the past carried through the present. A fusion of all of it. A capture of the vibrations and energy that have been part of this land for centuries, poured into a new, fascinating and thrilling musical manifesto. A document of the eclectic symbiosis of a well-tuned coexistence of musical heritage, run through the prism of the musical times we breathe here and now. In the place we know, geographically speaking, as Slovenia. Even though the music sounds eclectic and speaks with the escapism of thoroughly idiosyncratic, well-tuned composing, anyone whose native soil is our homeland will find “Sozvočja” instantly familiar, captivating and seductive. Known from somewhere. We carry this energy, this vibration, in our ancient memory. It was given to us, it connects us and lives in us. It transforms and gets translated. Through us. In the form of creations. Musical ones too. From the past through the present into the future.
Let me step out of the frame of this philosophizing intro, though I hope my musings have shed some light on the mission of “Sozvočja”. For this album Janez Dovč once again gathered a wide palette of musicians around him. What you get here is a new all-star squad of Slovenian players. Where on the previous album Janez split the vocal duties more evenly between the sexes, this time he decided to hand the central vocal role pretty much entirely to Metod Banko (Silence), who already took part in the last record. Alongside Banko, quite a nice crop of musicians from the previous album appear on the new one too, but the list of players on “Sozvočja” is considerably shorter. The shorter roster may well have been down to the pandemic ‘adventures’ of the world that we’re still witnessing. But no worries. The musical substance of the new “Sozvočja” keeps all the brilliance of its predecessor, complements it in some respects and builds on it artistically. Above all, the content is at times far more experimental and exploratory. The album once again speaks in a mighty, solemn voice, and in all its sonic splendor it’s fully orchestral. Any philharmonic orchestra could take it on as its own with ease.
Let’s get closer to the sonic substance of this album. If the listener switches off their empiricism while listening, they’ll quickly ‘float away’ with it. The album’s intro is the perfect setup for exactly that. It’s the track Zemlja. It’s marked by two parts. The first is distinctly mystical. It feels like the creation of the world. Told in the language of music. The second part speaks like a celebration. The rhythmic structures come alive here and take the baton from the opening layering of sonic pastels built on the colorfulness of woodwinds and keyboards, interwoven with the angelic mystery of female choral harmonies. An intro that grabs you, then. Full-blooded. Anyone. Even the most demanding music gourmet. A similar vibe, though with a very different arranging starting point, comes just before the closing stretch with the track Gora je gora. This one too develops mysticism, calls it up, brings it to life in a hugely convincing way, as it conjures its thunderously furrowed, wild and inaccessible character, enchanted by virginal roughness and untouchability. Like a real mountain that you bow to and admire. The tune is masterfully graded. In an atmosphere that swells into a final crescendo. Through a dense weave of instruments, while a ‘thundering’ Banko steps up with a lower-pitched vocal character. Especially intense is Šentjanževo, which awakens the spirit of old religious customs, Proto-Slavic ones, and speaks in a particularly ritual way. The chants and their interplay work like a kind of mantra. Hypnotic.
So far I’ve singled out only three tracks, and otherwise…. I’ve already gone on too long anyway. There’s really a lot of information packed into this album, so it takes quite a few spins to ‘settle’ in your ear. But it gratefully rewards dedicated listeners, since with every new spin another musical veil lifts, another new detail unfolds. We’re talking about a fusion album, then. The bridge between tradition and the current transmission of vibrations is utterly fascinating and theatrically one of a kind. The moods on these lively compositions often swing around in completely unexpected ways. Within all that concise arrangement formatting there’s plenty of room for pleasing seasoning in the form of solo escapes, with which the instrumentalists loosen up the fixed frames of the motifs.
Banko’s been mentioned a few times by now. But the vocalist deserves a shout-out for effortlessly bringing several different characters to life on the album. Where on the previous record Dovč split the characters among several vocal interpreters, he’s now found all of them united in one singer. Exactly what he was looking for. Metod Banko is a man of many faces, a vocal chameleon, whose vocal charms leave an especially sensual mark on, for example, a track like Bosa pojdiva, dekle obsorej, which takes on a theatrical, chansonnier-style quality. And since these are adaptations of folk songs, the traditional melodies are of course kept in places, taken over by female choral singing (Tri jeretve, Zeleni Jure,…). These are accompanied by the bold experimental nature of loosened-up composing and cross-genre fusing, a conciliatory dialogue between elements of neoclassical music, jazz and pop, which accompany the core of Slovenian folk melos and fill it with a distinctive musical statement. Theatrical, lucid, sparkling and, despite the widely cast fusion of loads of elemental pieces, always within the frame of a perceptible thread of compact composing. Even in moments that could lead to complete fragmentation, the composition always returns to compactness. It’s worth adding that the crew doesn’t stop there. There are moments that speak (choral chants, combined rhythms, the gluing together of sonic pastels) like world music. From the Celts to the heart of Africa, with the Balkans sitting somewhere in between, of course. So be ready for plenty.
The crew is, as said, brilliant. Janez Dovč is here with his accordion. With his recognizable approach he hooks into the whole story of the album. You find it right away. It’s an integral instrument. As it should be. That’s exactly the mission of the album as a whole. And yet. If you focus only on the accordion, or rather on the approach not just to playing but to weaving this instrument into the arrangements, then the updated and unique sonic nature of this instrument in Janez Dovč’s hands is, in itself, a bridge between the present and the past legacy of Slovenian folk music. The coexistence of all the elements, led by the interpretation, is superb. Behind it all stand musicians with exceptional mileage and know-how, musicians who have been connected through collaboration in various musical alliances for years. All that made Dovč’s role as conductor, and more, much easier. It brought him that much more joy and fun. That some of the album’s content can be associated with the legacy of the Slovenian popevka, which blossomed through the seventies into the eighties, hardly needs pointing out. It works like breathing oxygen. Totally natural. One more thing needs highlighting. Janez Dovč combined the lyrics of all the tracks from poems of folk songs and poems by the greatest Slovenian patriots: Edvard Kocbek, Kristina Šuler, Karel Destovnik Kajuh, Oton Zupančič, France Prešeren, Ivan Cankar, Josip Murn-Aleksandrov, Srečko Kosovel, Simon Jenko. This setup offered that much more open space for taking on artistic challenges, so this move too is a very important factor in loosening up and stirring the development of the compositions and, above all, the captured moods.
Mission accomplished. Purpose fulfilled. With this new sequel to its brilliant 2014 debut, the Sounds of Slovenia project keeps its elusive, one-of-a-kind musical artistry intact, and it once again doesn’t stop impressing. Especially with the bigger payoff of exploratory and experimental daring, which further strengthens the character of its artistic elusiveness.
Author: Aleš Podbrežnik
Tracklist:
Side A
1. Zemlja
2. Kabinetni ljudje
3. Neusmiljena gospoda
4. Punt
5. Bosa pojdiva, dekle, obsorej
Side B
6. Šentjanževo
7. Zeleni Jure
8. Tri jeterve
9. Šepetanje tajno
10. Pod oknam
Lineup:
Metod Banko – vocals
Janez Dovč – accordion, electronics, vocals
Boštjan Gombač –clarinet, whistles, sound objects, vocals
Klemen Kotar – saxophones, flute
Kristijan Krajnčan – drums
Marino Kranjac – bagpipes, sopele, mandolin, vocals
Goran Krmac – tuba, bass
Robert Pikl – guitars, ukulele
Petra Vidmar – marimba, percussion
Gregor Volk – vocals, guitar, violin
Maroltovke vocal group (Hana Brezovnik, Lucija Firbas, Mojca Kostanjevec, Ema Kovač, Mojca Kren, Katarina Mohorič, Nejka Pažon, Špela Polc, Jasna Žitnik, Nina Žvanut)
