Some bands use a variety of traditional instruments to make music – and then there are Širom. A trio that formed a decade ago over interests in post-rock and drone (their name means “around” or “widely” in their native Slovenian), they list more than two dozen instruments in the liner notes of their fifth album, from the Persian gheychak to the Mongolian morin khuur. They create a palette that’s kaleidoscopic in its textural, dynamic and melodic explorations of sound.
Širom’s work is improvisatory, energetic and tuneful. Album opener Between the Fingers the Drops of Tomorrow’s Dawn merges repetitive, buoyant patterns on the balafon (a West African xylophone) with chiming lyres and bowed passages on the guembri (a Moroccan string instrument, which here recalls the work of the late double bassist Danny Thompson at his most agile). Tiny Dewdrop Explosions Cracking Delightfully has a title like a lost Cocteau Twins B-side, but comes across like a soundtrack to the movement of a gnarly, chirrupping sprite. Frame drums and violins accelerate us towards the track’s cacophonous climax, perfect for a headbanging hippy having a spiritual conversion to metal.
In her hums and ululations, Ana Kravanja’s voice brings deep emotion to Hope in an All-Sufficient Space of Calm, a rare short track at just under four minutes. The longest, The Hangman’s Shadow Fifteen Years On, stretches to a more ominous 19 minutes. Sparse string phrases lead us to the manic blowing of a fipple flute, suggesting a life at its limit, that then slowly decays.
An acoustic resonator guitar and the clatter of “various objects” point to the present day, but the mix of traditional instruments, gnashing and clashing, also swirls us into a vortex of time travel. Be brave and embrace this uneasy, intense album for the ages.
Also out this month
U’s Archenfield (Lex) is a hauntological exploration of the folklore of Herefordshire through regional songs and poems, school recordings, spooky experiences of local historians, and snippets from film and TV. Hannah Sanders an& Ben Savage’s The Stranger’s Share (Sungrazing) is the atmospheric, lush product of the duo spending five days around one mic, playing traditional songs, covers and a few originals. The best tracks are their take on Lal Waterson’s Fine Horseman, with Sanders’ vocals giving it softer, sweeter edges, and a version of Bob Dylan’s North Country Blues in which they become Cambridge’s Gillian Welch and David Rawlings. United Bible Studies’ Strange Is the Coastline (Talking Elephant/Hobby Horse) teems with bushy-tailed folk-rock about Albion and Ireland, as well as brutal, bracing songs about singer Alison O’Donnell’s experiences with a former stalker, such as the startling You Often Hid.
