Modest Mussorgsky
In view of the oncoming new Mekong Delta album
(“Tales of a Future Past”) it kind of makes sense to sit down and look at their
back catalogue, and see what else could be written regarding their past
exploits. I’ve been pouring accolades over Ralph Hubert and Co. over the years,
and well deservedly so, but I can’t completely ignore this side of their
repertoire that I haven’t been able to come to terms with.
For a band that have survived on the music scene for
over 30 years, it should be noted that they haven’t flopped deplorably along
the way although the album reviewed here sticks out as a not very carefully
calculated endeavour in their discography. For those who are familiar with the
guy(s)’ style, it should be no secret that they have been heavily influenced by
the classical music heritage, and a fair tribute they have done to it across
the board. Throwing a few classical renditions on each of their albums,
including a fittingly-titled compilation (“Classics”, 1993) of most of those,
has surely enriched their complex entangled thrashing tactics… but when the
latter are missing, the “classical music performed with guitars, bass and drums”
formula epitomized by the band doesn’t seem to produce the same effect.
So in 1997 Ralph Hubert decides to give a more
fulsome expression to his classical predilections. He has already attempted
this in a shorter (EP) format, but the time has apparently become ripe for a
more ambitious full-length recording, one that can handle an entire classical
piece, the Russian composer Modest Mussorgsky's piano suite that bears the same
title as the album here; the same one on which Emerson, Lake and Palmer tried their
hands on in a live setting a quarter of a century earlier. Whether this was an
exhibition of arrogance on the side of Hubert, to show that he can beat the
rock legends in this trend, or this is simply his most beloved classical piece
which fruition has been long in the makings, can only be speculated upon but
the truth is that the man doesn’t sound as natural and as genuine when not
wrapped in the ironclad thrash clout, and his creative genius doesn’t shine as
brightly when having to faithfully reproduce someone else’s (master)piece.
This is not a metal recording; the only pieces that
have any relation to said genre are the ones already heard before: “Gnomus “,
featured as “The Gnom” on the EP of the same title; and “The Hut on Chicken's
Legs”, featured as “The Hut of Baba Yaga” on the debut and on the “Gnom” EP
again. One of them (“Gnomus”) is placed at the beginning, the other one (“The
Hut…”) towards the end but the more aggressive charge they carry is severely
contrasting to the remainder as similar seeping drama isn’t encountered
elsewhere. The album contains two sides (excluding the two mentioned numbers):
short momentary interludes and longer more meaningful instrumentals its
construction strictly subjected to Mussorgsky’s original as Hubert takes no
liberties with it; neither does he attempt anything outside the classical box
which in this case is a slowmotion procession with a lethargic balladic veneer,
with Uwe Baltrusch particularly busy as his lead insertions are quite frequent,
and will probably keep the fan hooked for longer as the man really outdoes
himself on those. The thing is that with a minimalistic, not very fluctuating
delivery of the kind flashy guitar pyrotechnics are not exactly the most vital
ingredient, and their merits invariably become debatable by the end. Fans of
the Mussorgsky suite will be curious to hear how this piece can sound in a
guitar-driven setting, but how enchanted they’re going to be by it is another
question. The band fans will be split into the ones who will stand by any
outburst of classical infatuation exhibited by their idols, and to those who
will have problems accepting the bare skeleton of the band’s style devoid of
its more belligerent thrashy armour.
It’s interesting how many other artists have been
enamored by this piece: Tangerine Dream (“Turn of the Tides”), Yes (“Big
Generator”), the late Michael Jackson (his song “History”), the not very known
Brazilian Amon Tobin (“Out From Out Where”), the mentioned ELP undertaking…
even our beloved black/dark metallers Samael sneak in a fragment from the “Baba
Yaga” on “Baphomet's Throne” from ”Ceremony of the Opposites”… there are
definitely others… so where does this recording stand among those? Well, it
could only be compared to the ELP opus as the second full-on take on this work,
and as an isolated deviation from the guys’ more aggressive approach it
delivers to a certain extent; and it should probably come as not such a big
surprise having in mind the band’s classical orientation so amply displayed
earlier. The thing is that the band have already provided the more convincing,
alright more metal-prone, segments from it earlier… and the presence of those
here raises the not very comfortable question: why exacerbate these two
particular pieces to metallic proportions? Provided that there isn’t
justification for such an interpretation based on the originals… why leave most
of the album flow as one unperturbed idyllic melancholic whole pricked somewhat
awkwardly at the beginning and at the end? The beginning serving as the
requisite hook intended for the metal fandom… cause those are the ones who will
check out this effort first and foremost; and the end providing the rude
awakening for those who are still around… now there’s a possible theory.
It’s only Mr. Hubert who can explain the mystery
surrounding this oddball occurrence; and he had clearly intended this one as a
swansong at the time; a downbeat anti-climactic swansong which will intrigue
the opera goer, and perhaps the casual general music lover; but will leave the
core of the band fanbase bewildered and only mildly entertained… because the
lurking fear of their favourite act turning into non-metallic classical pieces’
interpreters was quite tangible back then… but this only made the jubilation of
their comeback opus (“Lurking Fear” that is) bigger, a most marvellous
progressive thrash slab. Ralph Hubert, what a joker; to scare away the metal
audience once upon a time… only to bring them to the stage of ecstasy once
again a decade later. An accomplished sorcerer, what can you do? He hasn’t
wasted his time spent in the Hut of Baba Yaga…
Pictures at an Exhibition is the last Mekong Delta
studio full-length of the 90s, after which the band would take a ten year
sabbatical, the members exploring other opportunities. Its an homage to Modest
Mussorgsky's famous piano suite of the same name, and thus an instrumental
album. Doug Lee's tenure ended with Visions Fugitives; though he was still in
the lineup at this time, he would not return in the following century. This
also represents a culmination in the German band's love for this particular
composer, having already covered some of the constituent movements ("The
Gnome", "The Hug of Baba Yaga") and another well known
Mussorgsky piece, "Night on the Bare Mountain", on prior recordings.
This is not the first such work: Emerson, Lake and
Palmer covered the suite with a live album in 1971, and there's also a Japanese
proto-electro rendition from the 70s which is quite cool, but I'll give Mekong
Delta some credit, because this is perhaps my favorite. Their previous album,
Visions Fugitives, featured an original symphonic arrangement of some length
(alongside several shorter tracks), so I would have thought the next step to be
an entire album of their own compositions, but ultimately I'm quite satisfied
with this. The band have included two versions of each track, one with the band
performing alone, the other with both band and orchestra, for a total of 32 and
70+ minutes of listening. I'm a bit divided on which I like more...the longer
pieces do tend to sound more interesting with just Mekong performing them, but
the interludes certainly benefit from the symphony. The orchestral versions
certainly seem more enthusiastic, and yet, the core band elements are somewhat
smothered in there.
At any rate, this was a fairly risky and ambitious
project. Mussorgsky is a fantastic composer, a personal favorite, but I feel
like Pictures at an Exhibition is yet another of those classical pieces that
few mainstream folks can actually cite by name. Sure, they'll recognize the
movements from a number of films, TV commercials or their educational years,
but they're unlikely to much care for the nuance of the work being performed by
a metal band. Yet, the Germans sound amazing as they graze through the mourning
of "Il Vecchio Castello", Hubert's quirky bass-driven "Ballet of
the Unhatched Chicks", the frolicking "Limoges: Le Marché (La Grande
Nouvelle)" or the famed "Heroic Gate (In the Old Capital of
Kiev)". The material is obviously far below the ability level of the
Mekong Delta players, but they do it justice, and some of the more flighty
pieces do capture the band's schizoid, progressive essence naturally.
Pictures at an Exhibition is pretty good for what it
is, the band's seeming finale until the vicious reawakening in 2007's Lurking
Fear. If you're interested in metallic reworks of classical music, then it
possibly belongs on your shelf alongside other such projects like the sappy
Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Sort of how I crave the Minibosses' covers of Metroid
and other Nintendo classic themes, I find myself breaking this album out when
I'm feeling studious. Granted, it's not quite so worthwhile as breaking out an
earlier composer's rendition of the Maurice Ravel arrangement, but then you'd
be lacking the thrashing breaks and Ralph Hubert would be lacking your money.
I'd also point out that it's far stronger to listen through "The
Gnome" or "Baba Yaga" in this context, than independently among
the band's original songs. Also: this cover art is the best I've seen from the
band.
It's good to know that some metal bands still listen
to the older forms of music instead of just continually feeding off each other,
but Mekong Delta's rendition of Mussorgsky/Ravel's masterful "Pictures at
an Exhibition" is mildly amusing at best and uninteresting at worst; to be
sure, one cannot expect three or four instruments to take the place of a full
orchestra (in the first half), but rather than personalizing the music, adding
to it and adapting it, Mekong Delta chose to play very close to the original
and thereby highlight their shortcomings. The guitar sound on this album -- by
necessity, if playing from the original timings -- is stilted and forced, and
the guitar-driven versions of pieces like the introduction to the track
"Gnomus" are laughable when compared to the original string sections.
Not a single track comes out unscathed.
"But this all presumes foreknowledge of
'Pictures at an Exhibition!'" you say. "Straight comparison tells me
nothing!" In that case, this album can be best thought of as a
particularly boring and long instrumental piece with uninspiring musicianship,
and little to recommend it besides quaintly-named tracks. You would do better
to find a recording of Ravel's orchestration of Mussorgsky's piece.
All in all, this album is scarcely worth buying, but
feel free to add a few points to the score if you're in the market for a
novelty album or happen to particularly like the original.
No comments:
Post a Comment