Artist: Bučar, Rudi
Label: Celinka
Release: 2012
Length: 43:02
Rating: 4.3/5
Rudi Bučar has been a familiar name on the Slovenian music scene for a long time now. A successful singer-songwriter who preaches the gospel of keeping the traditional musical heritage of the Istrian peninsula alive, he’s got two solo studio records under his belt: »Kapot« (2004) and »Kambiament« (2007). The album with no specific title, simply going by the name »Rudi Bučar & Istrabend«, is the logical continuation of both predecessors. With it, Bučar takes a bigger step toward a truly original voice that, this time too, stays closely tied to the traditional Istrian melos, while the new record, with its organically built soundscape, further magnifies Bučar’s innate feel for a plasma of sensitive charge.
The Istrian folk tune 3×7, which opens the album, was already used on the previous album »Kambiament« (2007), but this time it wears a different sonic look. In the new arrangement Bučar swapped the rocky racket in the verse for the warm embrace of accordion and woodwinds, and spiced up the chorus with the choral singing of the klapa Lungomare from Umag, who join his vocals again later on in the song Trajna.
Once again Rudi Bučar is at his strongest in the more intimate moments, where a whiff of yearning melancholy creeps into the melos. That charge is captured by Edina, then Draga (an »Istrian tango«), and also in the »hidden« closer (not listed on the album’s sleeve) Naj traja, which, by the way, won the Slovenska popevka in 2011. Here Bučar’s warm, pleasant timbre is boosted in places by an almost whispered narration, especially when the instrumentalists ease in ever more gently, stringing along the given motif. So in this respect the fact holds up beyond dispute: ballads are the strongest points of any album, and they ignite all the harder the softer you play them.
The song Draga carries a neat contrast between the two basic approaches Rudi Bučar uses vocally. The chorus brings a piercingly strong, authoritative delivery of vocal expression, while in the verse Bučar builds up the mood with subtle finesse, delivering his lines in a vividly sophisticated way.
The song Še malo can also be counted among the calmer moments on the album. Še malo stands out on its own on the record. It’s a lazy waltz with a dash of blues mixed in, which teases out an erotic accent in Bučar’s vocals as they tragically unfold into a trembling, bewitched spell of intoxicating allure that’s pointless to resist. The mood is further lifted by the excellent solo of Janez Dovč’s accordion, which sounds almost French.
Besides the playfulness the album is brimming with, as in the tracks with a strong sentiment of Istria’s traditional folk heritage (3×7, Vstani primorska / O, Bella Ciao, Mama Piero me toca, Trajna, Dajte, dajte, Wana je lbezn), a note of lucid sarcasm creeps in too – the mischievousness of black humor. In Mama Piero me toca Bučar gets downright frenzied, ramping up the repetition of the lead line into a final crescendo. So, generally speaking, the album puts that playful reflection of temperament front and center, the kind that springs from the geographic roots Bučar’s creativity rests on.
Flanking Bučar’s vocals on either side, two instruments act as »counterbalances« to the whole development of the album. On one side there’s Janez Dovč’s accordion, and where the percussion and drums duck out of the way, there’s Goran Krmac’s tuba.
The song Sonce sije is definitely an oddball and, as its title hints, it’s a shining track of easygoing playfulness. Those of you with a slightly better-trained ear will quickly spot that the rhythm of this song is almost identical to the rhythmic backbone of the 1980 hit Johnny And Mary by Robert Palmer. On top of that, the song is graced by a seriously infectious melody and lightly colorful collages that stroke Bučar’s heartfelt, centrally placed vocals like delicate veils. A song that wins you over instantly, and one tailor-made for radio airplay. In terms of songwriting it’s a less typical track for Bučar, who is otherwise strongest in the ballad departments, but it’s still an exceptionally beautiful composition that adds extra variety and a colorful twist to the album’s flow.
If (Lačni) Franc, in the spirit of Zoran Predin, wanted »the elephants to fly«, then don’t be surprised to find that with Rudi Bučar the elephants fly in red rockets. The song Slon is another number on this album that strays from the rest of the material, with a rhythmic SKA connotation and a load of lucidly goofy rhymes in the lyrics, which Bučar nails especially with the deliberate emphasis on the letter »R« (R-R-R-R-R). In its (optional) tango version, going by the basic cues of the lead melodies, it would be an ideal chanson for smoky cabarets.
With the new album Rudi Bučar has churned out yet another excellent piece of work. He keeps combining the effective tapping of Istrian traditional folk melos with the idea-rich figures of his own songwriting solutions. Bučar masterfully tailored the songs of traditional origin with a few brilliant arranging touches, mixed them in among his own tracks, and so turned this record into a vivid landscape of total eclectic sovereignty, the kind that only he himself can pull off again. And one more thing. With it, he has delivered his most mature work to date.
Lineup
Rudi Bučar – vocals, guitar, percussion
Janez Dovč – accordion
Goran Krmac – tuba
David Morgan – drums, percussion
Mitja Robič – torbenta
GUEST MUSICIANS
klapa Lungomare on tracks no. 1 and 6.
Production
Rudi Bučar, Tadej Mihelič & Gaber Radojevič
Track list
1. 3 x 7
2. Edina
3. Wana je lbezn
4. Draga
5. Mama Piero me poca
6. Trajna
7. Še malo
8. Sonce sije
9. Slon
10. Dajte, dajte
11. Vstala Primorska / O, Bella Ciao
12. Naj traja*
*…. hidden track
