FOLKLORIK

The first in a long stretch of albums published this year by this highly productive Belgian guitarist, Folklorik is a jolly collection of "folkloric world dances", which is code for "a bunch of freaked out avant-prog instrumentals with folk/world music elements that one couldn't possibly dance to in their life". Said folk/world music elements are a bit opaque; some tracks are clearly inspired by traditional French or Latin music and some are actually named after existing folk dances from around the world, while other titles are entirely made up. The instrumentation (with all instruments performed by Mr. Vervloesem himself, possibly with the aid of a DAW) is quite heterogeneous too, with exotic flute, brass, accordion, vibraphone and pipe organ sounds assisting Vervloesem's trademark electric guitar and eccentric synthesizers. Tracking down the supposed cultural origins of these songs isn't helped by the inclusion of completely random musical quotations, such as the melody of "Jingle Bells" in the middle of a jazzy accordion shuffle.

If you weren't able to tell by either the previous paragraph or the album cover, this album is goofy. It's so goofy and all over the place in fact that it's impossible to not have a ton of fun while letting these discordant, bouncy musical contraptions come over you. The way some of these songs progress, for example the dissonant lead keyboard melody on top of a driving punkish beat in an odd rhythm in "La Panikade", actually reminds me a lot of Cardiacs, although Vervloesem distinguishes himself here with even zanier instrumentation and more unpredictable songwriting.

Even when it seems like you've heard everything, this album still finds ways to keep you on your toes. "La Sambrevilaine" starts off as a pastoral pseudo-French accordion ditty but ends up shedding off all its cosiness as it gradually transforms into a manic circus polka. Another song, "La Tristerie" would be a relatively normal guitar-led prog rock song (complete with a Mellotron!) but frequently interrupts itself to make way for squeaky synth burps. The only song that maybe doesn't have enough surprises is the nine-minute "Le Felakon", which is essentially an extended jam based on a single strange riff. The weirdness definitely doesn't subside here and it still has some tricks up its sleeve to keep itself interesting, but as the epic, logical conclusion to an album like this, this song misses its mark in my opinion. Besides, track 6, "L'Entrejambe", already serves a similar purpose as an excellent and much more concise straight-forward (relatively speaking, of course) synth/guitar jam. Not that it leaves the album on a sour note or anything; this whole thing is a must-listen for fans of Zappa, Cardiacs, Tipographica or any other experimental rock acts that don't take themselves too seriously.