Author: Sandi Sadar Šoba
Artist: Kreslin, Vlado
Label: Dallas Records
Release: 2013
Length: 81:54
Rating: 3.2/5
What can you say or write about the man with the black guitar, the poet of Prekmurje melos, the most potent and most listened-to Slovenian singer-songwriter, that you haven’t already read somewhere? From this side of the Kolpa, I’d say precious little, but apparently, after decades of hesitation, the time has come to conquer the Balkan plains and the many souls who, supposedly, don’t get our allegedly most demanding Slavic tongue all that well. After a year of countless re-creations of exceptional experiences and a reworked, expanded edition of Čarobnice that served up a handful of new songs, it was hardly a shock to hear that Vlado Kreslin had pulled together a wreath of more or less Croatian-sounding versions of his songs, handing a piece of his soul and heart to our southern brothers by blood and roots at the close of a rich, magical anniversary year, 2013. Right off the bat we can add that, after a string of compilation collages of songs heard a thousand times, this isn’t a total recycling of the magic in that good old familiar box of Kreso’s perfection and perfectionism. This time the man of heartfelt poetry allowed himself a few deviations and slight organic imperfections, though with purpose, with a touch of stage chemistry, which in concert or studio duets with musicians of the caliber of Šajeta, Zapadni kolodvor, Parni valjak, Indexi, Neno Belan, Mary Coughlan, Lidija Bajuk or the Hollywood man with charm and a resonant voice, Rade Šerbedžija, has proven by turns more or less successful and magnetically attractive. Through the veins and capillaries of a record aimed at a Croatian audience flow the Mura, the Drava, the Thames, the Mississippi and a few more entirely homegrown tributaries of rivers of the heart. Blues, country and rock, thanks to Kreslin’s alchemical knack for bringing together Dylanesque poetics, Byrds-like sensuality and Petty-like playful meaning, once again swell on hefty doses of the main man’s unique, matured musicality and the different visions of eminent guests, of whom there’s no shortage here. The Croatian side gets a good lesson in the singer-songwriter colorfulness of Krpan, who keeps trucking along his own path, and Slovenes, because our nation needs it, get a fresh bone to gnaw on.
What stays identical and undeniable is that the record lacks nothing in production terms. The music resonates with depth and just the right amount of crystal sharpness, which never comes at the expense of the warmth and softness of that well-known sweetness of the Pomurje soul nectar. Still, it might sting that a more thorough read-through by some Croatian-language specialist would have been more than welcome, since, according to plenty of lovers of quality music, this time even those ears can poke their way into the masterpieces that are far more sensitive, and consequently allergic, to their own language, linguistic purism and the lyrical flow of the verses. This is only a remark, and a thoroughly well-meant one, and the sinusoid of beauty is nonetheless in perfect harmony with the beauty of the original songs, which were already impossible to prettify or perfect at the very moment of breathing through Balkan lungs, since perfection was handed to our ears and feelings years ago. How does that sweet flower sound, the one we sniffed with the help of Halgata, once the lyrics are translated into Croatian? Umjesto koga roža cveti, with its literal translation and the backing of the phenomenal Zapadni kolodvor, who are a solid and proper accompaniment to Rade Šerbedžija, is not diminished by anything. The Gypsy melos blends beautifully with Kreslin’s velvet vocal, which whispers and suggestively translates its message about sensuality, love, lust for life and a cosmic saturation with the metaphysics of being into the right parameters of sensuality and perfection. Unfortunately a bit stiff and clumsy in translation, and less felt than in the original, is the exceptional Cesta, which this time lacks the rhythm of the rhymes, the sensual spiritual softness and verses that would touch the right erogenous zones in a heart used to the Slovenian version. Not even the gentle touch of Hammonds frothing under Gjurin’s fingers, nor the sound effects of engines droning down the roads of life, can fix that.
Among the newer songs that, after only a year of existence, already got a Croatian version is undoubtedly the intoxicating jasmine bush, which Vlado, together with his father Milan, delivers in a half-translated version as a synthesis of the Slovenian and the wider Slavic soul. Tisti bejli grm again has a properly sensual foundation of clarinet and accordion, brimming with unplugged acoustic impulses of total inspiration. Pjevaj mi in poj then proves once more that Kreso and Zapadni kolodvor clicked nicely, and that he had a total blast with the sound of tamburicas and accordion, in the company of properly carefree lads. You can feel and hear it in every pluck of the fragile strings, and it’s fun that the sun over the mountain pastures and the dawn over the kantun get woven into the tuneful melody, and with the gallop of father’s two little gray horses we ride into the more electrified part of the record. The resonant breath of Danas sam u molu mixes a sixties spirit into the whole, the warm touch of the best years of Yugo, and with a Presley-style choir backing Vlado shows himself a true master of sensual levitation. After the Irish whistles, a bit of bittersweet Irish melancholy weaves into the story, and the dirge about being lost in life can stir at least some sadness and wistfulness for the times we lost forever a good two decades ago. Rulet, recorded in 2003, is something else entirely. Personally, hearing this well-chewed song, I first hear Celine Dion’s melos, which soon sails into the waters of Gibonni and Tony Cetinski, and Kreslin in a duet with the sweet throat of Šajeta, singing about how the world spins like a roulette wheel and how often we bet on the wrong colors of life, comes off too soft and unconvincing for me to pull out a lighter straight away and fall for this rather divided Dalmatian rocker tune, which doesn’t grow on me even after thirty-plus listens. Some young lady who falls for Dalmatian poetics and kitschy full orchestration will probably go weak at the knees, but my heart’s center stays untouched by the molasses-sweet glaze of sugar. A matter of taste, I guess …
Coming from Goričko, I’d personally rather go to Piran than S Mure na more Jadransko, even though our Bay of Savudrija is an apple of discord only for feuding political opportunists in the Sabor and parliament, while real people on the ground feel and see no borders. Neno Belan works beautifully and harmoniously in a duet with Vlado, and the pearl of the Adriatic spills over, sweet and summery and enticing, all the way to the magical Mura. Grad closed the second disc of Čarobnice, and the exceptional duet performance with Drago Mlinarec gives this record a little karmic calm, gravity and melancholic dreaminess, a magic that Kreslin and Drago Mlinarec’s rich sonic cavalry cathartically caught on a recording in 2006 at Boogaloo in Zagreb. And when the moment arrives for the eclectic escalation of sensuality and the sparking of perfectly tuned energy between the Pomurje rhapsodist and superb interpreter and Rade Šerbedžija, the chansonnier and unfeigned music-lover, in the song Nocoj igramo za vas, the narrative beauty of Rade’s album Orihi unfolds before your eyes, and all the skeptics, faced with that Petty-Dylan-style dirty bluesy inspiration, can only take off their hats and say: »Svaka čast!«. And then a bit of Krpan-ing in the way that the red-hot Zagreb pop-rock giants Parni valjak and our own singer-songwriter from the mountains, the one who is also to blame for Političen song, can weave together. To ni političan song sounds ballsy and polished just right, so the eighties are back here and now. Aki Rahimovski gets room for his dance, Kreso adds his bit to the well-sung verses, but the homage to the great Krpan sounds a shade too much like a rehash and a hair too un-gritty. Everything is a bit too lukewarm and without bite, if I may say so. The guitars under the fingers of Hasanefendić and Brkić are admittedly superbly polished, but they lack that certain something, which is why I still prefer to be a fan of the original Martin Krpan rather than of borrowers of someone else’s feathers …
Šetala se lijepa Mara links the sentimental melos of Pomurje and Podravina in that lovely, Kreslin-given magical way, joined nicely by the sweet vocal, more than fitting for folk songs, of the truly vocally gifted Lidija Bajuk. The electricity, the static of perfect emotions, then builds nicely with the spirit of the wonderful Indexi and the excellent song Žute dunje (Voljelo se dvoje mladih), which this time invites you to dance with live concert energy. Old-town Sarajevo sentiš, no, actually full-blooded sevdah, which hits the right strings on this side of the Kolpa too, touches the heart chakra with just the right dose of carnival exuberance. Then we cross the banks of the Mura and Drava and, Preko Mure, preko Drave, swim into safer waters of the proven chemistry of the exceptional Ptič, which departs from the original in nothing, not even in linguistic daring. The beautiful reminder of outstretched arms and flight over the plains of Pomurje does ring out on a record supposedly meant for a Croatian audience, but as filler, as a lovely treat, sure, yet it serves people who don’t understand us with no lyrics that would be any easier for them to follow. The otherwise lovely song, with its wistfully slowed-down orchestration, turns into something thoroughly organically beautiful, but equally not upgraded in any way. Ena pesem is another insert of proven album chemistry, while the live duet with Mary Coughlan is bolder, falling, despite the Anglo-Saxon language barrier, right into the beat of the song Dekle moje. We got to know that genuine, heartfelt enjoyment on Čarobnice. Tista črna kitara is by now almost a necessary evil on every Kreslin compilation, but toward the end of the record you may miss some innovation, perhaps another duet that could have dressed the song up as something not yet heard. Something like what Namesto koga roža cveti pulls off at the end of the journey, breaking through the ceiling of feelings with really good chemistry with the aforementioned Šerbedžija. I couldn’t call the album’s closing act stuffy, though, my ears’ ever-beloved evergreen Od višine se zvrti, from which Severa Gjurin takes away the erotic charge, the sharpness and that wonderful aura of saintly beauty. Maybe I’m wrong, but the faint, nasal vocal of the self-proclaimed diva of Slovenian music leaves a slightly faded aftertaste in the mouth, despite its eight minutes of psychedelic thrill, which, I’d say, would undoubtedly work better in the live version from this year’s Križanke, when Vlado shared the stage with the exceptional Massimo Savić, because that version was truly eclectic and soaring, while Severa kind of kills it for me this time. Again, I stress, a matter of taste (or lack thereof).
Make no mistake, Umjesto koga roža cveti is a classic specimen of Kreslin’s artistic inspiration and proof that decades of rich creativity can now also be measured in epic duets that you can feel and hear on a single record. But it isn’t so perfect that, now that the voice of Slovenian singer-songwriter superiority has blown in south of the Kolpa, we should immediately declare it could never be better. I dare say it could have been better, and I say so partly because the poet from Beltinci par excellence has already thoroughly spoiled us, instilled in us a decent measure of taste and a better ear for quality (or the lack of it), and now those same yardsticks might lead him to admit that the limit was sometimes already reached, and that a fresh peak would take something more. Maybe another time, on another occasion and with a different selection of songs, which, despite everything, once again scattered new handfuls of pearls of beauty into the ears and hearts of the audience this time, only not all of the pearls are natural, first-rate and worthy of a standing ovation.
Lineup
Vlado Kreslin – vocals, harmonica, guitar (acoustic and electric)
Mario Igrec – guitar (on tracks #1, 4)
Pere Ištvančić – tamburica (on tracks #1, 4)
Marjan Krajna – accordion (on tracks #1, 4=
Ranko Purić – bugarija (on tracks #1, 4)
Antun Stašić – violin (on tracks #1, 4)
Nenad Jura Vrandečić – double bass (on tracks #1, 4)
Miro Tomassini – electric guitar, bass (on track #2), guitar, bass, mandolin, programming (on track #7), guitar, backing vocals (on track #13), 12-string electric guitar, mandolin, backing vocals (on track #14), acoustic and electric guitar, bass, backing vocals (on track #16), guitar (on track #17), guitar and backing vocals (on track #18)
Gal Gjurin – hammond, piano, rhodes, percussion (on track #2), bugarija, double bass, piano, clarinet, accordion, drums, percussion (on track #3), hammond, double bass, harmonium, accordion, tin whistles (on track #5), backing vocals, acoustic guitar, hammond, rhodes, electric guitar, percussion (on track #7), electric and acoustic guitar, slide guitar, wurlitzer, bass, hammond (on track #14), hammond, rhodes, backing vocals (on track #18)
Gašper Peršl – drums (on tracks #2, 14, 18)
Milan Kreslin – vocals (on track #3)
Insingizi – vocals (on track #5)
Gašper Konec – synthesizer, hammond (on track #5)
Iztok Cergol – violin (on track #5)
Marko Krageljnik – cello (on track #5)
Valentin Štante – viola (on track #5)
Dražen Turina – Šajeta – vocals (on track #6)
Elvis Stanić – guitar (on tracks #6, 8)
Henry Radanović – bass (on track #6)
Ivan Popeskić – keyboards (on tracks #6, 8)
Mihalj Ivković – accordion (on track #6)
Marko Lazarić – drums (on track #6)
Neno Belan – vocals (on track #7)
Sergej Randjelović – percussion (on track #7), drum (on track #13)
Vedran Božić – guitar (on track #8)
Zlatan Došlić – keyboards (on track #8)
Dalibor Marinković – drums (on track #8)
Boris Popov – percussion (on track #8)
Davor Črnigoj – bass (on tracks #8, 12)
Rade Šerbedžija – vocals (on tracks #9, 17)
Livio Morosin – guitar (on track #9
Mauro Giorgi – guitar (on track #9
Tomislav Šestan – bass (on track #9
Zoran Đorđević – drums (on track #9
Aki Rahimovski – vocals (on track #10)
Husein Hasanefendić – electric guitar (on track #10)
Marian Brkić – guitar (on track #10)
Berislav Blažević – keyboards (on track #10)
Zorislav Preksavec – bass (on track #10)
Dražen Sholz – drums (on track #10)
Lidia Bajuk – vocals, acoustic guitar (on track #11)
Cinkuši (on track #11)
Darko Pecotić – drums (on track #11)
Limena glasba iz Goričana – orchestration (on track #11)
Bruno Uršič – violin (on track #11)
Davorin Popović – vocals (on track #12)
Slobodan Kovačević – guitar (on track #12)
Sinan Alimanović – hammond (on track #12)
Đorđe Kisić – drums (on track #12)
Željka Katavić – Pilj – backing vocals (on track #12)
Jure Hübscher – keyboards (on track #13)
Jani Hace – bass (on track #13)
Eva Julija Rečnik – cello (on track #13)
Janez Podesek – violin (on track #13)
Marjetka Šuler – viola (on track #13)
Mary Coughlan – vocals (on track #15)
Pawel Gudzien – piano (on track #15)
Sven Buić – double bass (on track #15)
Matjaž Sekne – viola (on track #16)
Lado Jakša – keyboards (on track #16)
Dadi Kašnar – drums (on track #16)
Zoran Predin – backing vocals (on track #16)
Davor Klarič – hammond (on track #17)
Štefan Banko – clarinet (on track #17)
Boštjan Rous – clarinet (on track #17)
Andrej Sobočan – cimbalom (on track #17)
Viktor Marič – accordion (on track #17)
Samo Budna – violin (on tracks #17, 18)
Benjamin Pirnat – double bass (on track #17), bass (on track #18)
Aljoša Jerič – drums (on track #17)
Severa Gjurin – vocals (on track #18)
Tomaž Pačnik – synthesizer and piano (on track #18)
Iztok Cergol – violin and backing vocals (on track #18)
Production
V. Kreslin, Gal Gjurin, Elvis Stanić, Drago Mlinarec, Janez Križaj, Darko Pecotić, M. Tomassini
Tracklist
1. Umjesto koga roža cveti (feat. Zapadni kolodvor)
2. Cesta
3. Tisti bejli grm (feat. Milan Kreslin)
4. Pjevaj mi in poj (feat. Zapadni kolodvor)
5. Danas sam u molu
6. Rulet (feat. Dražen Turina – Šajeta)
7. S Mure na more Jadransko (feat. Nino Belan)
8. Grad
9. Nocoj igramo za vas (feat. Rade Šerbedžija)
10. To nije političan song (feat. Parni Valjak)
11. Šetala se lijepa Mara (feat. Lidija Bajuk)
12. Žute dunje (Voljelo se dvoje mladih) (feat. Indexi)
13. Preko Mure, preko Drave
14. Ena pesem
15. Dekle moje (feat. Mary Coughlan)
16. Tista črna kitara
17. Namesto koga roža cveti (feat. Rade Šerbedžija)
18. Od višine se zvrti (feat. Severa Gjurin)
