ethno jazz

Mihaly Dresch quartet

I forgot how I love concerts. I avoid going, because there are people there (shocking, truly shocking), it's loud and energy draining, one has to get there, which requires dressing up and makeup.... I also forgot how I love saxophone. I even wanted to play sax when I was fifteen, until I found out how much they cost...
Well, last night I remembered both. Mihaly Dresch, the Hungarian John Coltrane, played up a storm at Porgy & Bess, a jazz club in Vienna. It was truly a complete sensual and emotional experience.
His saxophone had a beatiful velvety, sometimes almost hoarse 'shellack' to its sound. The deepest tones make your feet melt and become one with the earth underneath. The low tones resonate in your underbelly and spread warmth throughout. The alt wraps around your heart and the high pitched notes run through your hair like lover's fingers. Truly amazing.
The Dresch quartet mixes traditional Hungarian tunes - nostalgic ballads that Hungarian officers used to shoot themselves to in the pubs when a woman left them (they are known for this, it's part of the culture. Szomoru Vasarnap, or Sad Sunday is among such ballads), through the pesky csardas that makes you want to jump out of your seat and twirl around with the nearest Hungarian - with jazz. The fusion is effortless. Dresch picked up a solid hand carved Transylvanian flute with a husky, abrasive sound to it. You could almost hear the shepherds calling across the valleys hundreds of centuries ago. In half a second he picked up the melody with his sax, bringing you right home, with that lingering memory still on your tongue - reminding you who you are, where you come from and where is your place in this world.
Now I'm not a jazz connoisseur, so naturally I focus on other things. Dresch is, for example, a perfect Robert de Niro look-alike. The drummer looks like that Irish American actor, whathisname, Patrick MacSomething, and the cimbalist like that British actor that played in a movie about slave trade in Britain. Basist is a true copy of Kickycan, a member from an online forum I frequent. Now, we all know what faces drummers make. This one did not put the other drummers to shame. He flapped his jaw in the wind, stuck his tongue out, fiercely closed eyes. But do you know what faces a cimbalist makes? He hits the cimbalom strings with malettes as if his child's life depended on it, contorting his face not unlike a heavy weight weight lifter, other times looking surprised as a ten year old boy who just spilt a gallon of milk. On mother's brand new laptop. Unfortunately that's the extent of expertise I can offer, but if you have a chance, buy their latest CD, or even better, go see them. It's worth it. Here's a teaser, hope the link works:
http://video.tvnet.hu:8080/ramgen/c2/bmc/bmccd093/track03.rm