Storsveit Nix Noltes – Royal Family Divorce – Citizen Dick Album Review

I’m not knowledgeable about Balkan music.  Maybe I’m not cool enough and haven’t listened to enough records to understand the essential rhythms and conventions of the genre.  No doubt, bands like Beirut hone in on the eastern European vibe and do it effectively, if effective is creating intriguing art that pleases multiple cultures and reaches across musical family lines.  If it is safe to conclude that the indie scene is able to embrace these cultural influences, then Storsveit Nix Noltes’ upcoming album Royal Family-Divorce shatters all boundaries and will stand alone as a freight train of musicianship in 2009.  The direct recreation of Balkan anthems with a sonic twist is impeccably crafted and bursting with an energy that’s fully embraceable by any fan and any ear. We’re excited about this album, and hopefully, pre-orders should start piling up for its April release.

To fully appreciate where this album is going to land and how it’s constructed, a wee bit of background information is crucially important.  To begin, the term Storsveit is Icelandic for Big Band, and the eleven piece folk ensemble is just that, made up of some of Reykjavik’s most respectable musicians, beginning in an art school and sprawling outward from there.  Initially, the group became united due to their love of Bulgaria and the surrounding states’ musical styles and customs.  The band’s evolution is currently situated as nearly a full on orchestra sound, but strays far from traditional string-based outfits trying to crack the indie world.  This is a sophisticated jam band, sonically pulsing with bouncy energy and mysterious cultural underpinnings. Within the first thirty seconds of the record, it becomes obvious that this crew did their homework and have left many cultural aspects of the original Balkan music in place, but have polished their own shine to it.  Fat Cat’s homepage explains that the album was recorded in a tiny cottage in the band’s hometown, and this immediately surprises me.  At no point do I hear “homespun” or anything of the sort.  I’m not typically an instrumental guy, but this thing hits hard and fast, taking breath quickly.

The band’s initial album, Okideur Havai, turned the heads of Animal Collective, who requested the band tour with them.  This is initially what piqued my interest to listen onward.  Animal Collective is one of my favorites, and the art/music school style of that band has always been forward thinking. Rest assured, this is not Animal Collective, but the mere fact that indie gods have noticed is important here in that a crossover is extremely possible and will be interesting to see.  The opening track, “Wedding Rachenitsa” pounds the speakers quickly with repetitive horns and a slimy looped out synthesized midsection.  Percussion is omnipresent on this track, and the entire record, crashing cymbals and loud snares in organized chaotic brilliance.

Through vivid and emotional intensity, the record takes me to my pre-envisioned notions of eastern Europe; I’m surrounded by cobblestone streets, busy markets, centuries-old buildings, narrow corridors, embraced poverty, and cultural richness. Each track is strongly poised to take a naive American down this path eagerly. “Atmadja Duma Strachilu (Revolution Song)” is an epic track based in aura, with a slowed-down vibe that eases tension from the upbeat predecessors and inserts melancholy anthemic brass screeches with a sad underbelly of synthesized fuzz. I’m not Balkan, and I’m not a century or two old; however, it’s impossible not to “get it.”  Many tracks are narrative in nature and the approach obviously brings the band’s classical training to the forefront. The movements are breathtakingly sharp and contagious.  ”Elenska Rachenitsa” begins as a dark rock song with a clean electric guitar riff and cavernous and pounding drum beat.  Slowly the accordian, and about six other instruments enter the party, leaving the listener exhausted with shifting intensity until the 6:10 has run out.

The answer to where this band fits into the whole indie scene isn’t easily discovered but I believe it lies somewhere in the album’s dark undertones.  The tracks are often brooding and non-linear, as in “Winding Horo,” where a Zeppelin-esque riff slams throughout and juxtaposes wild shifts into jazzy and bouncy horn sections. There are moments where this album is most definitely an intense rock album with hell-bent dives into distortion and ugly sneers; in other words, Spielberg will not be able to easily use these tracks in a movie score this year.  There’s too much for the rockers to like.

It’s extremely difficult for a Cleveland rock critic to write a review of this record.  To put it bluntly, this collection of songs is nothing short of cathartic, and the varying style and eclectic attachment to Balkan rhythms is immediately gratifying.  This is not an album you’re going to do laundry to on a lazy Sunday; Royal Family – Divorce, when it drops in mid April, will be an album that deserves your full conscious awareness and attention.  It’s anthemic and emotionally inspiring musicianship is sure to wind up on many smart-guy lists this year, and is deserving of all the praise it gets; certainly these amazingly talented musicians haven’t left a lot in reserves in the creation of this masterpiece.  Get to the local record store or online and pre-order this as soon as possible.

Storsveit Nix Noltes – “Wedding Rachenitsa”

Click here to buy Okideur Havai at Insound

Click here to pre-order Royal Family-Divorce through Fat Cat Records