Waldemar Matuška - Slavíci z Madridu (Nightingales from Madrid)

We can say without exaggeration that Waldemar Matuška was one of the most popular Czech singers of all time. With his fiery gaze, impassionate bass-baritone, but also a great sense of humour, he soon became the heart-throb of many a young woman in the 1960's and 1970's. People would often joke that young women could be divided into two groups: Karel Gott's fangirls, and Waldemar Matuška's fangirls (I myself proudly identify as the latter!☺)

An only son of a Vienna operetta singer, Matuška first got training as a glassmith, but his passion for music soon lead him to the theatre Semafor - a powerhouse of new talent in the 1960's - and soon became a huge star. Later, he started acting in films, his songs would be featured as title songs of many TV series. However, after he didn't return from the USA in 1986, all his work got blacklisted. His voice was erased from titular TV show songs, his latest record was destroyed, and his name was deleted from end credits. Films that he'd appeared in were forbidden. The 1990's meant a reneissance of his old songs, but even though he would hold many concerts in his homeland, he never returned from America to live here.

A popular practice in the 1950's, 60's and 70's was translating songs from the West. The originals often could not be played here at all, and people wouldn't understand them anyway. Sometimes, it happened so that the translation was somehow even better than the original - often completely changing the topic of the song. Especially popular were French songs, and that is the case of Slavíci z Madridu. Originally written as Rossignol Anglais by Hugues Auffray, it was used (similarly to Modlitba pro Martu) for the TV musical series Píseň pro Rudolfa III. (A Song for Rudolf III), from which is the video below.

Petr Novák - Já budu chodit po špičkách (I'll Walk on Tiptoes)

Let us go back to the sixties for a bit. This song was so popular in 1965 that rules of the radio hit parade Houpačka (Swing) had to be changed, because Já budu chodit po špičkách remained number one for a year and a half! It remains popular to this day, and it appears in film soundtracks and is regularly played on the radio.

Petr Novák's life story strikes as one of the rather tragic ones in the history of pop music. In his late teens, he was a big fan of the Beatles, and he and his two friends founded a band. They called themselves simply - "Beatles". Of course, before they made their first recording, they changed their name. In 1965, as "George and Beatovens", they recorded a few songs on a tape recorder and sent them to Jiří Černý, at the time director of the radio hit parade Houpačka. He picked two songs - "Já budu chodit po špičkách" and "Povídej" (Tell Me). The songs became an immediate success. Novák's two friends were drafted, but after their return two years later, the band resumed its track. This was the time of the greatest artistic success for Novák.

Unfortunately, again, the political circumstances came to play. Novák got in trouble right in 1969 when, at the music festival Bratislava Lyre, he declared a minute of silence for Jan Palach. Due to his popularity, he did not get an official ban to perform, but the regime that frowned upon western-influenced music and his notorious hard-partying and drinking (combined with not eating; at one point, he would have a beer instead of breakfast, and then another instead of lunch) encouraged organizers not to hire him any more. After his lyricist Ivo Plicka emigrated in 1975, Novák was never able to fully resume his once-promising career. After '89, there was a renewed interest in his music, but due to his anorexia, he was getting ill, and he died in 1997 (aged 51) of heart failure and total exhaustion of his organism.

His friends recall him as being incredibly sensitive and kind. This reflects in both his songs and his vocal performance - a high, tender voice with a melancholic, romantic quality. His songs cover a large variety of subjects - from a tender lover putting his girlfriend to sleep, to the confession of a dying clown, but what connects all of them is profound sensitivity, thoughtfulness, and contemplation.

Czech National Anthem - Kde domov můj

With the ongoing ice hockey world championship, chances are that you've heard the Czech anthem if you live in the Czech Republic, so I thought it would be a good idea to cover it on this blog now.

The song was written for the comedy Fidlovačka aneb Žádný hněv a žádná rvačka (Fidlovačka, or No Anger and No Brawl) in 1834. "Fidlovačka" was a traditional spring festivity held by Prague shoemakers in the city part of Nusle (where today you can find the street, park, and theatre named Na Fidlovačce). In the play - written by Josef Kajetán Tyl and composed by František Škroup - the song is performed by the blind violinist Mareš. During the Austrio-Hungarian Empire, it became an informal anthem of the nation seeking to revive its identity within the Habsburg Monarchy, and after 1918, it became the national anthem - together with the first verse of the Slovak anthem, Nad Tatrou sa blýska (Lightning over the Tatras).

Its lyricism and somewhat plaintive melody may strike as a contrast to the proud, heroic, or even revolutionary themes of many national anthems, and even some Czechs criticize it for it. However, in my personal opinion, I think it is a great representation of the more noble Czech ideals - humanism, peacemaking, and a love of the beautiful nature.

Buty - František (Francis)

For the first post-1989 Czech music post on this site, I decided to go with the band Buty, which definitely is among my top favourites. A band from Ostrava (the name "buty" means "boty" - shoes, boots - in the Lachian dialect) that started a few years before the fall of the communist regime, it came to prominency around the mid 1990's. Their style "can be described as an eclectic mixture of rock, folk music, ethnic music, country music, jazz, reggae and other genres, with witty, dadaist lyrics." (Wikipedia) I personally very much enjoy their sense of humour - both in texts and in music - and refined instrumental approach, which combine in a diversive and pleasurable body of work.

The song František comes from their third album, Dřevo ("Wood", 1995) and is one of my favourite modern Czech songs. With its jokingly plain text and somewhat naïve storyline, this song is both funny and it breathes an air of nostalgia, as it shows how with a simple deed, you can leave the world a bit better place.