Wednesday, March 23, 2005

 

Tom Waits has made sure to let everyone who reads the Guardian know about Czech polkas and waltzes. "Whats that?" you say. Yes, Bohemian and Moravian (Czech, that is) polkas from Texas have made his top twenty albums of all time. It came in at number twelve, and had my dad seen that, he'd have fumed around the house for a few days on how it should have made number one. I am in agreement.

Here is Tom's assessment:



Bohemian-Moravian Bands by Texas-Czech (Folk Lyric) 1993

"I love these Czech-Bavarian bands that landed in Texas of all places. The seminal river for mariachi came from that migration to that part of the United States, bringing the accordion over, just like the drum and fife music of post slavery, they picked up the revolutionary war instruments and played blues on them. This music is both sour and bitter, and picante, and floating above itself like steam over the kettle. There's a piece called the 'Circling Pigeons Waltz', it's the most beautiful thing - kind of sour, like a wheel about to go off the road all the time. It's the most lilting little waltz. It's accordion, soprano sax, clarinet, bass, banjo and percussion."




I found this record on used vinyl at Amoeba in San Francisco a while back and have been keen on it for some time. The day I saw it, it stared up at me from the bins like a mirror of my youth. I grew up in the American Czech tradition. Which is, drinking and dancing the polka. It took me back to the day when I was a child staring at my old uncles as they sat me on their knees and sung along to whatever song was being played. I'd bounce along in time and revel in their off-key warbling. Whiskey breath and dark red noses, my family would pull out their accordions and trumpets and microphones and tubas (a rare thing to see these days, tho) to get a full on drunken hootenanny going. My favorite is the Wanderer Waltz.

Gramma taught me to dance before I knew anything else. And Grampa taught me to swear in Czech. I've forgotten by now. Great Gramma, who lived with my Grandparents never spoke in English. Every Sunday, Great Gramma would cook up a batch of the sweetest and most delicate crepes ever made. THe men would wake up late, hungover and bitter about having to go to church, but when the radio came on and Czech polkas were played, that hangover became a beautiful memory and the smiles came back.

Not many polkas are heard today, and it's nice to know that Tom Waits is lauding their existence. Even moreso that the good people at Folk Lyric records are archiving some of the finest music around, and if you listen closely... you may hear some Fojtik favorites.

buy the album here

posted by Hog 8:48 AM