Sunday 30 April 2017

Psí vojáci - Žiletky (Razor Blades)

Psí vojáci (Dog Soldiers) was a legendary underground band from Prague. It was founded by Filip Topol in 1979, together with Topol's elementary school classmates David Skála and Jan Hazuka. Topol first performed at Václav Havel's cottage in Hrádeček as a support for The Plastic People of the Universe when he was only 13.

Because of the band members' association with underground figures and the controversial lyrics of their songs, they quickly draw the attention of the secret police. They didn't even have identity cards yet when they were interrogated for the first time.

They took their name from the Dog Soldiers, a Cheyenne military society that appeared in Thomas Berger’s novel Little Big Man. Their music style is somewhat difficult to pigeon-hole. Topol was a singer and a clasically trained pianist, Skála was the drummer and Hazuka played the bass-guitar. They were influenced by punk rock, avant-garde and classical music. Their style is often described as art-rock, alternative rock or experimental rock.

"There have always been some elements of punk in Psí vojáci. Our music speaks to punks in a different way than the music of truly punk bands, but I believe we share a lot of what they feel." (Filip Topol in an interview for Rock & Pop 11/99)
The band continued to perform after 1989 until Filip Topol's death in 2013.

Modlitba pro Martu (A Prayer for Martha)

I'd like to dedicate the second part of this series to my number ONE favourite Czech singer, Marta Kubišová. And which other song to begin with than her signature song, A Prayer for Martha?

I'm going be returning to this extraordinary artist many times, because I'm simply in love with every single song she's sung. Her deep voice is captivating like none other's, and her soulful interpretation turns these profound lyrics into an almost transcendental experience.

This song - composed by Jindřich Brabec and written by Petr Rada - was originally written for the TV series Píseň pro Rudolfa III. (A Song for Rudolf III) in 1968 - then called simply "A Prayer". Unsurprisingly, it became immediately connected with the events of the Prague Spring and the following invasion. In 1989, it became the unofficial anthem of the Velvet Revolution. You can read more about this song here or here. Needless to say, in addition to some other protest songs Ms. Kubišová published in 1968-9, the song was banned by the Party and Ms. Kubišová could not perform publically any more.

Thursday 20 April 2017

Karel Kryl - Jeřabiny (Rowanberries)

Alright, so I've decided to kick this site off with a post about my absolute favourite singer-songwriter of all time. Karel Kryl's (1944-1994) speciality were protest songs - "he identified and attacked the stupidity and inhumanity of the Communist and later also post-communist regimes in his home country," reads the introduction of his Wikipedia entry, and continues:

"The lyrics of Karel Kryl's songs are highly poetic and sophisticated, with a frequent use of metaphors and historical allusions. The sparse sounds of an accompanying acoustic guitar served to underscore the natural flow of the lyrics themselves. In certain respects—especially the complexity of his lyrics and his accompaniment by a single acoustic guitar—Kryl was similar to a young Bob Dylan. However, unlike Dylan, the Czech singer had a smooth and pure voice, which gave a hauntingly sad quality to his mournful lyrics. He was bitterly critical of the new regime established after the collapse of communism in his country, including of Václav Havel, and those who were responsible for the destruction of Czechoslovakia in 1992."

Jeřabiny (Rowanberries) is one of Kryl's most famous songs, and also one of the earliest. It was first published on his debut album, Bratříčku, zavírej vrátka (Close the Gate, Little Brother), in 1969 - shortly after the Warsaw Pact invasion of Czechoslovakia. The album's cover was originally supposed to be Josef Koudelka's photo of two dead bodies in a passageway, covered by the Czechoslovak flag from August 1968, but the publishers feared that it would get banned by the censors. Another Koudelka's photo was then chosen instead - again, from August 1968 - of a boy sitting on a street in Prague, with a bullseye drawn on his back.