Hanggai - Introducing Hanggai Review
Posted by JR Simmang on 08.07.2008
In my opinion, it’s time for someone to get their head on straight and really write some music. We need music that means the difference between life and death. We need a musician that understands music and writes accordingly. Wait a second, just found one.
Song List
1. My Banjo and I
2. Yekul Song
3. Zhaoderen Nana
4. Five Heroes
5. Flowers
6. Haar Hu
7. Wuji
8. Lullaby (Borulai)
9. Drinking Song
10. Four Seasons
Once in a blue moon, I get an opportunity to just sit still. You see, I’m usually the guy that talks too much, can’t sit still, and I more often than not have my hands in something. But, magic happened the other day. I put Hanggai into my CD player and I fell into a trance. I closed my eyes and I let Hanggai drag me into a whirlpool of sound, rhythm, iconography, anger, sadness, everything. This album, on the first time through, floored me, literally. I opened my eyes and I was under the table on my back, sweat dripping from my brow, and the smell of horse on my clothes. I don’t know, don’t ask.
Hanngai, for all it’s ingenuity, utilizes two of the world’s oldest instruments: the two-stringed banjo and the horse-head fiddle. Don’t worry PETA, it’s not a real horsehead a la Godfather. I think it refers to the shape of the fiddle. But, I digress. There are also two Tuvan throatsingers in the employ of the band. For those of you who have never heard of Tuvan throatsinging, it’s really an experience. It’s difficult to describe. Think of gravel being rolled in a barrel and at the same time a child is standing next to it, swirling around that plastic tube thing from the late 90’s. You know the one, it makes a sound like whistling. That’s an awful comparison, but it’s the general idea. Early Mongolians started singing like that to mimic the shape of the fields in the foothills and mountains and the breeze over the grass. It’s quite a fantastic and complex method of singing. For those of you who think you can do it, try it and see if you can talk afterward. Again, I digress.
The album begins simple enough. In “My Banjo and I,” the two-stringed banjo begins a steady plucking followed by the fiddle that sneaks through the underbrush. Immediately you feel like you’re riding on the back of an Applelusia through the marsh soaked rice paddies while men plant new sprigs for the spring. They spare no time introducing the listener to the primary throatsinger. It’s fast but easy, a nice trot through the countryside. There are only three songs that show off the playful nature of Hanggai. There’s that one, “Zhaoderen Nana,” and “Drinking Song.” A word of warning for “Drinking Song.” Don’t actually drink and try to sing along. Not only is it in Chinese, but it speeds up at the end. Sober even, it’s dangerous.
You see, there’s something about this album and I’m not sure if I can place my finger on it. Wait, wait for it. Yeah, there it is. It has soul. Hanngai has taken the perfected songs of the Mongolian culture and brought it mainstream. They’re here to show all those Katy Perry’s and K Fed’s what it means to write music. They have passion about what they do. That sense of responsibility is no more apparent than in “Five Heroes.” You can really get a feel for how much work goes into creating the unique throatsinging technique. Then, as if reminding the listener that even though the song sits really heavy, there’s no reason to let it bring you down. They toss in some spaghetti western. They pelt you with the juice harp (Snoopy’s favorite instrument) and twangy guitar. Then, there’s the anthem song. Bachman Turner Overdrive has “The Boys Are Back in Town,” Hanggai has “Wuji.” It’s forceful, quick, unreserved and driving. It makes that adrenaline pump and forces you off your chair. It’s straight quarter note rhythm propels you forward. Maybe that’s when I fell onto the floor.
All things being said, incredible. This album is a breath of fresh air. A drink of cold beer on a hot day. It’s refreshing, renewing, revitalizing. I haven’t felt this type of amorousness since Lemonade and Buns from Kila. There are a couple rough patches that didn’t sit too well for me, though. The first, “Zhaoderen Nana” has some automobile sounds in the background. It’s a little distracting. And “Lullaby” is too depressing for me to sing to my children. It’s beautiful, but in a The Last Samurai sort of way. Maybe if it didn’t have Tom Cruise... Plus, I think it was Illiqi’s, the lead singer, punk rock roots shining through just a little. The last song is stunning, a perfect ending. It feels like the hero’s goodbye in a Chow Yun-Fat movie. Maybe that’s what stuck out in my mind about this album. It’s highly cinematic. It’s incredible.
The 411: Introducing Hanggai is more than just an introduction. It’s an outright emotional roller coaster. The beauty and excitement are intricately well- played. Through their use of two of the world’s oldest instruments, they provide for us the sensation of sitting in a pagoda, watching the sun set over the Mongolian mountain range before steaming some dumplings for dinner. It’s unexplainable. The closest I can get to describing this album is that it’s pure magic. Enjoy.
