Širom - A Universe that Roasts Blossoms for a Horse

A Closer Listen

Two years ago, we reviewed I Can Be a Clay Snapper, from Slovenian trio Širom.  Their highly unique sound continues to be undefinable; in the same way that Dead Can Dance expanded the lines of world music, Širom challenges assumptions of nation and genre.  This being said, it’s easy to draw a line from the film Baraka to the video “Low Probability of a Hug,” especially when the faces look directly into the camera.  A vast, mud-caked landscape turns out to be human; male and female chants intertwine; macro meets widescreen.  Hints of asceticism abound, as does a regard for Mother Earth. We witness what may be a Slovenian dance, but there’s a banjo in the mix.  Tea Grahek has done a wonderful job translating the trio’s work to screen, preserving the music’s elusive nature while enhancing its specificity.

As mentioned in our prior review, Širom uses many instruments unfamiliar to Western ears.  Those we didn’t list last time include the bendir, qeychak, ikitelia, tampura brač and tank drum.  The group likes to use found objects as percussion as well; there’s no limit to the breadth of their timbre.  But there’s a notable difference between this album and the last, despite the fact that their edges are connected like conjoined twins via the vocal of “Ten Words” (the last track of the last album) and “A Washed Out Boy Taking Fossils from a Frog Sack” (the first track of the new album).  I Can Be a Clay Snapper contained long buildups leading to raucous jam segments; A Universe stretches multiple melodies across entire tracks.  “Sleight of Hand With a Melting Key” is longer by far than anything on the prior release, yet it continues to grow and develop over the course of a quarter hour, shifting between movements in a fluid, instinctive way.  When the drums take over in the final minute, their joy seems earned.  By continuing to use rhythm throughout the album, Širom adds accessibility to the avant garde.

“A Pulse Expels Its Brothers and Sisters” is another prime example.  The percussion may dominate the first half of the piece, but it’s so full it cannot be seen as prelude.  The second half seems more like the passing of a baton, each side integral to the success of the track.  The fold in the center of the piece is recognizable, but nothing else conforms to Western expectations.  The music is both alien and familiar, like the faces in the cover art, which cause one to ask, “What culture is that anyway?”  The answer lies in between.  The more one listens, the more the music makes sense: even the title accumulates its own logic. Do horses eat flowers?  They do.  So wouldn’t it be kind to cook some for them?  (Richard Allen)

Fri Aug 16 00:01:33 GMT 2019

The Quietus

The Slovenian trio Širom’s second album A Universe that Roasts Blossoms for a Horse is a surrealist romp: smart, sprightly and frequently superb, even if it sometimes becomes a little sedate in its harmonic meanderings. Sibilance aside, this is a really interesting record. It mixes minimalism and Balkan folk in a way that appears to warp, melt and drip like one of Dali’s clocks. Strange, demonic artwork and song titles like ‘Sleight of Hand with a Melting Key’ and ‘Low Probability of a Hug’ set this deliberately bizarre tone, while the three band members – Ana, Samo and Iztok – delight in exploring the timbres of an increasingly niche list of instruments.

The record’s topography might superficially seem random – the ceremonial wailing and jittery, sliding strings that open ‘A Washed Out Boy Taking Fossils From A Frog Shack’ place us in a kind of improvised, trance setting – however, stylistically the music is pretty consistent. Riley-esque minimalism is the realm we are operating in, and the third track, ‘A Pulse Expels its Brothers and Sisters’, is the case in point. With the delicate, well-placed skill of the finest minimalist composers, the band develop a soundworld which sees whistling chords on a variety of metal bells form a cyclical ostinato, usurping the mechanical rigidity of the song’s percussive opening. These robotic periods – unavoidable in minimalism such as this – do have a certain charm in their predictability, though, especially given the warm counterpoint provided by the record’s other main theme.

Širom’s folk tendencies provide that other half, the fusion which makes this record’s sound so unique. On ‘Sleight Of Hand With a Melting Key’, ferocious strumming of mandolins and waif-like vocals neatly offset the chugging gamelan motifs – respite from the repetitive thrum. The melodies they create here are truly sweet: ‘Low probability of a hug’ has long sections where pretty lines emerge, floating from the muddled, droning dirge created by the quite phenomenal range of instruments that each member plays. This combination of folk and minimalism gives the whole thing a ritualistic, almost anachronistic feel: images of lurid pagan dances around a crying twilight fire seep from the music.

However, this meld is also the cause of the album’s main pitfall: by the end, you feel like you’ve heard all that this mix of genres has to offer. A beguiling combination it is, but in fusing folk and minimalism the band actually expose the confines of their own creation. While much contemporary classical music and indeed 20th century minimalism derives its intrigue from strange, clashing chord changes, by keeping it within a folk context, Širom are anchored to only one or two tonal areas. The music can thus feel rather static: a small contained wristwatch rather than the expansive Rube Goldberg machines that more harmonically expressive minimalism tends to feel like. It’s not that this is a band with one trick, and nor does the record ever feel unadventurous – the start of ‘A Pulse...’ puts both those ideas to bed –  it’s just that by the end, this feels like an album trapped by its self-imposed harmonic limits.

Ebbing and flowing between order and chaos, A Universe that Roasts Blossoms for a Horse feels like a long ride in an entropic machine, programmed to descend into mire and din. As such, it’s never dull, it’s just you sometimes wish it had a couple more places to go.

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Mon Sep 02 09:22:01 GMT 2019