I Just Read About That…

 SOUNDTRACK: BLACK OX ORKESTAR-Nisht Azoy [CST038] (2006).

On the second (and so far final) Black Ox Orkestar album, the songs are longer and the whole disc has a more polished feel.

It feels less like friends gathered on a night for music (which is what the first one seemed like) and more like a band playing the music in the studio.  There’s more precision in the instrumentation and more instrumentation overall.  The voices,  like on “Bukharian” are layered, bringing in bass voices that didn’t appear before.  The album also feels a bit more like a GYBE type of project–more building, more epicness.  “Tsvey Taybelakh” [Two Doves] is over 7 minutes long.  And even though a song like “Az Vey dem Tatn” [Sad Is the Father] is clearly Yiddish (the vocals are the big giveaway) they sound like more than folk songs, they sound bigger, more “important.”

“Violin Duet” has a slow mournful piece and then a sprightly fun dance piece.  “Ratsekr Grec” is a big instrumental dance piece that  sounds familiar but is not the song I’m thinking of (which is from a movie, I believe).  The 7 minute song actually has elements that feel a bit like Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” (with clarinet).  And the final song “Golem” begins like an epic with slow guitars and strings in a very traditional melody.  It has a number of false endings at around 3:30 and again at 5 minutes.  And since album has some translation of the lyrics, (which are still sung in Yiddish) we can see the lyrics move beyond traditional Yiddish yet are firmly grounded in them:

“We made a new golem/ We created our guard/ Without soul and without mercy/ He watches the gate/ Like the cameras on the fence/ Like the barbs on the wire/ Like the concrete barricades/ He becomes landscape/ But no. It can’t go on/ No. It can’t go on/ Not like this…,”

Again, if you don’t like traditional Yiddish music (or vocals sung in Yiddish) you won’t like this, although the adventurous may want to give it a chance.

[READ: May 6, 2014] 8

The cover above is actually not the cover of the version I read.  The McSweeney’s Two Books in One does not seem to have this cover for 8 anywhere (which is a shame because I like the way the covers of each book parallel each other (and make the infinity loop as well)).   Interestingly, the original version of the book featured the subtitle: “All True, Unbelievable.”  And that might be useful to include here too.

Amy Fusselman’s 8 is a sequel of sorts to The Pharmacist’s Mate.  In that book, she wanted to get pregnant.  In 8, she not only successfully gave birth to the boy from that first book, she has also had a second child.   And like many new parents, she understands that no matter how much you wanted children, sometimes for your own sanity you need to hide from them to have a few minutes to yourself.  It’s refreshing to read a normal person write about her children.  Especially when she and her husband try (and fail) to do sleep training.

But fortunately, that is not all Fusselman talks about.  She also talks about when she was raped as a shockingly young girl.  This tragic story is dealt with in a variety of ways and, surprisingly, never in a particularly dark or somber manner.  She calls her assailant “My pedophile” and spends a lot of the book working with alternative healers to come to grips with what happened to her.  And while this story is obviously hugely important in her life, it doesn’t seem to cloud everything she does. 

I enjoyed these sections because it introduced me to some therapies that I’ve either not trusted (hands-on healing) or never heard of (craniosacral therapy).  Both of these sound very interesting and if they were covered under my insurance I’d be curious to try them out.

The Unbelievable part of the book comes from a visit she and her family took to see a live performance of Sleeping Beauty.  It does seem somewhat unbelievable although more dreamlike than not believable. I don’t want to spoil that scene because it was beautiful and the subsequent paragraphs about it are very funny as well.

The end of the book is about her and her husband trying to get motorcycle licenses.  It is informative and engaging–a novice slowly growing to love something.  And her first experience on the bike, in New York City traffic is as terrifying as it might be for anyone.

Fusselman has a wonderfully casual writing style (this book is also broken down into paragraph-sized chunks, although it is not numbered).  She feels like a friend confiding in you, and that makes for a very engaging read.  I see that she has a new book due out next year.  I think it might be worth checking out.