Mastika

Urban southern Serbia, under Turkish rule until 1878, has retained many so-called ‘Oriental’ characteristics in its folkways, food and, of course, music. But the last at least has been leavened by many other strains. One of these has been the Austro-Hungarian military band tradition, which is now most visible in the Roma tradition of trumpet-led brass ensembles that combine Teutonic discipline and precision with uproarious energy and rhythmic propulsion. Marko Marković, son of Boban who reinvented the style in the late 20th century, appears even more eager than his father in his search for material to incorporate. Here snatches of sevdalinka rub shoulders with 70s US funk and soul, rock-steady and blues, with references to drunkenness and the internet, early 60s jazz harmony, cop-show soundtracks, German schlager. Each influence is given a few seconds of intense focus before being supplanted by something else. It's both a comic appraisal of the Western idea of Roma life as unbuttoned drunken exuberance, wryly parodied and refected back at itself, and a kaleidoscopic display of musical invention and virtuosity.

The result, staking out a unique territory somewhere between James Brown, math-rock and the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band, is both hugely enjoyable dance music, and a smart metamusical critique.