Famille Lela dë Përmet — Polyphony II

One of the oldest traditions in music is the drone and one country doing well in preserving it, it resounds even in modern popmusic (even when encapsulated into a hip r'n'b beat) is Albania. One of the the ensembles that preserves it best is the Lela dynasty from P�rmet, Albania.

Their first and longtime only album, Polyphonies vocales et instrumentales d'Albanie, released in 1992, has been a landmark in Albanian folklore (along with the stunning release on the Chant Du Monde imprint called Albania - Vocal and Instrumental Polypony) and no less than 15 years later we get a followup to it. 15 years later and a few members are no longer in our midst, including Remzi Lela ('Cobani'), the clarinetplayer able to freeze time with his tearfilled sound. In the past four years also Myslym (vocals) and Bilal (vocals and def) passed away. These sad events of course have had deep impact on the remaining members, but they found the strength to find replacements and record a second album, simply called Polyphony II. A 'new' member would be niece Eda Zari, an accomplished jazzsinger on whose album Statement the entire family appeared. On this album she's involved in arranging as well as recording.

As one would expect the music hasn"t changed much, this project is primarily about preservation. Actually, I believe this is music outside time, particularly the vocal pieces like O shorre do marre longare and the painstakingly subtle and subdued Ngreu moj lule…ngreu!. This is the magic that the Albanian tradition is capable of. Also included are instumental pieces that are rhythmically very complex, pushing and pulling the uneven measures as in Bradesheshi, representing Albanian folkmusic at its most hermetic and uninviting. Not to scare anyone off of course, but just be warned that this is not pre-chewed world music (and even less fitting in the current 'Balkan Beats' trend).

A slightly more modern sound would be Pa turbo, an extended improvisational piece, which has a slightly jazzy undercurrent. On a steady beat provided by the percussionists the clarinet, violin and bakklama (a local type of lute) get ample time to shine. There's also a little more reverb on the sound than in some other pieces. Another, somewhat strange thing, is the distortion that pops up in some places. Productionwise I'd say there's some odd things happening, I guess Eda's jazzbackground has something to do with the choice of using more reverb than usual in ethnic recordings. But the distorted bits seem a mistake. There's still the performance which crushes all of these objections, but still. So far so good, but then Asaman closes off the album. I like Eda's voice in her own music, but in this song, which is just her and some percussion it comes off illplaced. She sounds lush and like a lump of pure sugar after the unsweeted and (in some respects unintendely) raw sounds that preceded it. Her voice itself and the multilayered arrangement, although obviously rooted in Albanian tradition, just seem awkward in this context.

So there we are, fifteen years later with an album that may have some reasons to complain, but I can't give anything less than five kudo's because recordingquality isn't always that important, especially when it's overshadowed by an abundance of raw spirit. And a last song is easy to skip (which I haven't even done once yet).