Search:bolka

Bolka is known as the man with the cap. His cap has lived through a lot: his glitchy and microtonal experiments, studies at Institute of Sonology in The Hague or through countless performative works. A few years ago, Bolka’s cap fell apart. By that time he was already a fixture on the slovak experimental scene, but only releasing his debut album, “smutné stropy.” He started wearing new caps from then: somehow reminiscent of the old one, but much more varied — same as “smutné stropy,” bubbling with motifs, charming humour and pop sensitivity layered over detailed soundscapes popping with surprises.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka returns wishing for a thick black hair. With his charming love songs, that are positioned somewhere between a tightly run freak folk orchestra, deconstructed ballads and colorful ecstatic melancholy, he creates an album that thrives on juxtapositions that are completely unique, yet strangely familiar. Bolka’s songwriting is at once tender and irreverent — lovestruck whispering suddenly tripping over absurdist jokes and surreal images that fizz like soda. His songs move in that strange space between vulnerability and mischief, where intimate confessions collide with radical playfulness and the poetic rubs shoulders with the delightfully ridiculous.

On schwarzkopf, Bolka expands his world with a wide circle of collaborators and an even richer sonic palette. The album is meticulously detailed yet carefree: delicate moments sit next to sudden explosions, drifting from gentle pop to bursts of noise. Toward the end, the album even slips into a footwork-infused remix by Kodiki, passes through Julek ploski’s signature neon-baroque string perspective, and briefly wanders into Lénok’s cinematic sonic world. Bolka sings that he wants to dissolve into a healing ointment, to be ground in a mortar with calendula — and he invites us into this musical spa with him: a place that stings a little but ultimately soothes, a gorgeous soundscape that is both painful and joyful at the same time.

Sunk in quicksand, doused in prosecco and soundwaves of glitches and Croatian choons, Bolka

is stuck in the raw state of desire. This love came into being under the sad ceilings, bearing traces
of fantastically naive melodies shredded by claws of intruding noises of the artist's debut EP.
And yet, radical sensitivity and optimism on the new EP do not remain just on the beach.
Žiadzasamy (loosely translated as Yearningforus) include love songs about love read in cards,
about overcoming insecurity, about scratching up the slippery walls of reality towards the dream
source of warmth that only SHE possesses.
Syrupy pop tunes in "nech sa ti páčim" ("i hope you like me") are led by a nursery rhyme about
the complex embrace of infatuation, from the head down to the shoulders, knees and toes of the
desired person. The sound wizard of peculiarities goes by the motto "let anything I wish for
come true", whether it's his white buttocks shining in the dark sea or him sweeping past barefoot
in search of seafood delicacies, and the same is heard in his music where euphoric and childish
moods sink arbitrarily to the depths of corroded and distorted rhythms of anxiety. "A smutek
utek" ("and the sadness is gone"), though, sets a new direction for the Bolka's musical piece;
after a slow mo deflation of the balloon of hopes, after wallowing in oozy and sticky blend of
delirious melodies, Bolka gets to spin the wheel of the real Balkan soap opera.

"More, mám ťa veľmi rád" ("sea/man, i like you very much") is the pinnacle of absolute
infiltration and absorption with infatuation and suddenly, the amusing nods to stereotypical
Croatian hits make it clear that all the joy and high spirits do not stem from holiday idleness. In
žiadzasamy, Bolka indulges in the ideal notion of love that is closer to reality with each passing
kilometer, impatiently speeding up the Latin tempo in the hyper-pop escalation in order to
venture into the most radical decision – that all will end well.
Žiadzasamy is hedonism injected right into one's vein, an ashtray always aglow with a lit
cigarette and a musical burst of new-born love that sets the Bolka's sound world on a single
course: from siesta to fiesta, and so on and on.




[d] 04: Žiadzasamy (Remix) [feat. Viktor Jenčuš]

Während seiner außergewöhnlichen Karriere, die sich über mehr als sechs Jahrzehnte erstreckte, schuf der weltberühmte italienische Komponist Ennio Morricone mehr als 600 Originalkompositionen und einen einzigartigen und unverwechselbaren Stil, der avantgardistische Lösungen mit feinster Pop-Psych-Attitüde verband.

Zu den Künstlern, die den Maestro sampelten oder sich in ihren Produktionen von ihm inspirieren ließen, gehören: Jay-Z, Flying Lotus, Danger Mouse, Madlib, Mark Knopfler, U2.

Anlässlich des 95. Geburtstags des Maestros (10. November 2023) präsentiert CAM Sugar eine neue Sammlung von wenig bekannten Perlen, die von Morricone komponiert wurden und die 2020 die Morricone Segreto Collection ergänzen: Morricone Segreto Songbook.

Ein Beweis dafür, dass auch einer der berühmtesten Komponisten unserer Zeit noch Geheimnisse zu lüften hat.

Das Morricone Segreto Songbook enthüllt die poppig psychedelischen, düster-kinematografischen und avantgardistischen Klänge, die die ursprüngliche Sammlung kennzeichneten, mit einigen Ausflügen in den Folk-Rock der Zeit, zwischen ergreifenden Balladen und eleganten Chansons.

Diese Anthologie entstand aus dem Wunsch heraus, Morricones Filmmusiken zu erforschen und einige versteckte Perlen zu entdecken, die trotz des innovativen Niveaus der Kompositionen und der Modernität der Orchestrierung mehr oder weniger in Vergessenheit geraten oder in den Hintergrund gedrängt worden sind.

Ab dem 10.11 als 2LP oder 1-CD Digipack verfügbar.

“La Settima Donna” (1978), also known as “The Last House On The Beach”, is a disturbing thriller directed by Franco Prosperi and set in a secluded cottage overlooking the Tyrrhenian sea, starring Florinda Bolkan, in the role of Sister Cristina, governess of five female students on a short vacation, rehearsing their Shakesperean end-of-year play. The unfortunate inhabitants of the house became soon hostages of three vicious criminals looking for a hiding place after a bank robbery, but the psychological and sexual violence ends when the nun abandons her vows. And the victims decide to get justice. Roberto Pregadio's brilliant music is not surprisingly, functional and almost disconnected from the bloody images: there is no overwhelming sense of disturbance for the listener.

The soundtrack of “La Settima Donna” was published only once, in cd format, attached to the rare dvd of the film, gaining new life on vinyl thanks to Musica Per Immagini. Some of the eleven tracks of the score are characterised by an easy listening mood and united by a psychedelic feel, in harmony with the progressive atmospheres found in albums such as “A Saucerful Of Secrets” (1968) and “Meddle” (1971) by Pink Floyd. However, the English band is not the only reference for the jazz pianist, who quotes a piece by Bryan Ferry, entrusting it to the voice of Ray Lovelock, one of the three kidnappers. After that, the Sicilian composer remodels an international hit by Donna Summer, background of the sequence in which the nun is forced to strip naked in front of her tormentors.