A Closer Listen
Whenever we review a Širom album, we delight in listing the instruments that may be unfamiliar to Western ears: ribab, qeychak, balafon, fipple flute, gembri, morin khuur, balafon, tampura brač. “‘We don’t want to play something that sounds like it already exists,’ says Samo, a third of the Slovenian ensemble; and not only does Širom not sound like anyone else, but each album sounds different from those that preceded it. And when one has come to expect the unexpected, they thwart even this, by recording their most accessible release to date.
Not that Širom has gone mainstream; far from it. Only two tracks are the length of singles, and the longest is nearly twenty minutes long. But in these two pieces, one finds entry points, the three-string banjo of “No One’s Footsteps Deep in the Beat of a Butterfly’s Wings” an easy entry point, while the alternating ritualistic vocal lines of “Hope in an All-Sufficient Space of Calm” offer exactly what the title implies, providing the listener with a holy experience separate from any particular religion. The single they have chosen to release, the six-minute closing track, uses harmonium to establish a base before the percussion, struck and shaken, enters in. If one receives the LP as global music, all the better; one of the album’s themes is a plea for people to recognize their commonality, using texture and timbre instead of words to explore a universal transcendence.
The longer tracks allow the listener to sink into a contemplative, even ecstatic trance. The wooden percussion of the opener serves as an invitation first to hear differently, then to think differently, to expand one’s musical horizons and then one’s spiritual horizons. If one may lose all track of time, might one also lose track of borders, or of seemingly inflexible positions? Five and a half minutes in, the tone grows more urgent, the drumming first heavier, then lighter, then heavier again, like sets of waves on an open sea. And then at the halfway point, the focus shifts to strings and voice before the drums return in the rousing finale.
“Curls Upon the Neck, Ribs Upon the Mountain” flips the script, mournful at the start, jubilant in the center, contemplative at the end. There is no template for a Širom track, but the track’s most intimate moments are among the album’s best. The album’s peak is found in the direct center of the center piece, certainly no coincidence; at this juncture “Tiny Dewdrop Explosions Crackling Delightfully” turns raw, with staccato strings dancing alongside the cymbals, wood block and bass drum. One can hear the title coming to life. This singular ensemble has produced another outlier, an album that sounds like nothing else, and is all the better because of it. (Richard Allen)
Tue Sep 30 00:01:04 GMT 2025