I've never been a fan of MX-80; Bruce Anderson's voice is, to
quote Tom Verlaine, "too too too to put a finger on." Anyways, I think it's
a bit much. So no one was more surprised than me when I popped this disc in
the player, fully expecting to pop it out again within minutes, and ending up
playing it all the way through. Then playing it again.
By now enough musicians have taken a crack at making a soundtrack for the movie in your
mind that hasn't ever been filmed that it qualifies as a trend. And like
the fruits of any other bandwagon-jumping phenomenon, a lot of those
records are pretty tepid. This isn't one of those records. It's as gothic
and anguished as its subject -- the multi-generational genocidal cycle that
keeps the Balkans stained with blood. Balkana is divided into four parts;
"Blood," "Cleansing," "Feud," and "Balkana;" but they comprise one program.
The music starts quietly, adding layers of electronically processed guitars
and buried percussion that build up a sense of foreboding. By the time you
get to "Feud" you can sense that something's up, but you're not sure what.
Then Anderson drops in a looped guitar chord and the pace picks up. From
there it's an increasingly nightmarish ride, with howling guitars and
sampled monk chants racing past the windows as the metaphorical train runs
straight off its tracks. The record ends with a bleak maelstrom, slowly
spinning around and around on its way to hell.
Balkana won't lift you up,
but it's singularly evocative of its chosen subject.
If you like Bruce Anderson, check out:
Crib She Is Church
Lee Ranaldo Amarillo Ramp
Polwechsel Polwechsel 2
