Alambari

At first glance there is something suspiciously ‘arty’ about DakhaBrakha. Attired in exaggerated folk costumes and oversize black lamb-fur head-gear – they play on ethnic stereotypes while at the same time subvert them. These four trained ethnomusicologists came together at the Kiev Center of Contemporary Art (DAKH) in 2004 under avant-garde theatre director Vladyslav Troitskyi. The story goes that one of the band members found a double bass in the theatre where they hung out, and – without knowing anything about it – began to play it. Et voilà, DakhaBrakha were born. This would reflect unfavorably on the band were it not for their highly original sound that they term ‘ethno chaos.’

On DakhaBrakha's new album, Alambari, there are a couple of tracks – like ‘Dostochka’ – which blend Slavic vocals with a ruminative blues mood drawing from an interest in African music. Elsewhere the group can be experimental, filmic, moody and avant-garde, with a minimalist and yet at the same time plaintive sound reminiscent of Janáček with the odd electronic touch. And then all of a sudden, without warning they can break into wild, romping ethno-punk, recalling Haydamaky at their best, replete with vocal trills, bagpipes – as in ‘Torokh’. With feet planted firmly in Ukrainian soil, the band serves up the unpredictable, precisely where one least expects it. Ethno chaos, in short.