Srdiečka tiché is the most compact album of the Tady To Máš band – not only in terms of dramaturgy, but also when it comes to mood and vocal expression. The album pays tribute not only to the poet Erik Ondrejiček, but also the beauty and poetry of the Slovak language.
“I still believe that Slovak production, here I mean big beat with all its versions, has always been a bit further along than Czech production,” Tomáš Kytnar, the dramaturgist of the Brno club Stará Pekárna and an occasional songwriter and musician, whose band Tady To Máš has been recently releasing one interesting album after another, said in 2013. Slovak musicians come to perform in Stará pekárna on a regular basis, and Kytnar has selected some of his colleague from them in the past. Through one of them, bluesman Juraj Turtev, he got to know the poet Judita Kaššovicová whose verses he first set to music in the album titled Sme len hostia na zemi (2006). Then, in the album Vôňa rána (2011), he focused on the verses of another Slovak artist, Erik Ondrejiček. This was followed by the collection Krátkovlasá čembalistka (2013) consisting of texts of both poets as well as, for example, Dežo Ursini or Milan Rúfus, set to music. And now Kytnar and his open group of friends are coming back to Odrejiček with their new piece Srdiečka tiché. With their so far most compact album, they pay tribute not only to the poet but also the beauty and poetry of the Slovak language. Indeed, in an interview? for Brno – The City of Music, from which the opening quote comes, Tomáš Kytnar recalled how he hitchhiked to Bratislava in the 1980s: “And already then the Slovak language seemed to me to be more music than language.”
Ondrejiček's poetry is truly onomatopoeic and beautiful when read aloud. “V krehučkej chvíli / ako v prstoch chladnúca lienka / môžete stisnúť / len prosím ďalej od bubienka,“ reads the first poem in Srdiečko tiché. The verse “A starý šansón v trblietavém tričku / do uší klame no nik mu neuverí“ is directly asking for being turned into music. Tomáš Kytnar got used to Slovak poetry across several albums and while listening to the new piece one has the feeling that the melodies come up by themselves. The new CD does not offer any songs that the listener cannot get out of their head after they first hear them. Melodies bordering on blues, chanson and café jazz are rather inconspicuous, we feel their inspiration in the rock classics (Krása pre krásu sung in English reminds me of Norwegian Wood by the Beatles with its rhythmic structure). However, mainly the interconnection of the interestingly produced music with the poetic lyrics is important. And although the album sometimes seems like a rough rock album thanks to the vocals of Tomáš Frgala, in its essence, it is a quiet record.
Although Tady To Máš has some foundation – the bandmaster's son Lukáš Kytnar playing the drums, Mojmír Sabolovič with fretless bass and electric bass, and excellent Slovak guitarist Miloš Železňák – the performers vary from song to song. Since Tomáš Kytnar still plays the piano very rhythmically (perhaps a remainder from the days when he, as a pianist, substituted for the missing bass in Makyota), the episodes of melodic instruments are important for the overall sound of the band. The saxophone, violin and viola appear in Šansón po večeri, maybe the strongest song of the album, and the flute is also very nice in the song titled Dotyk. Mostly, however, the carrier of the melody and the narrator of the story is the human voice, and in this regard there was a significant change compared to the previous albums. On the last CD Krátkovlasá čembalistka, Jana Fujáková and Tomáš Frgala (Frgala also in a cover of the Rolling Stones) first appeared next to Juraj Turtev behind the microphone. They are now both the major artists on the new album and especially Frgala shifts the piece to a more or less singing “dirty blues” tone that remotely reminds of Noro Červenák from the Slovak ZVA 12-28 Band. It is not a bad choice, but compared to the more flexible Turtev's voice from previous records, the piece seems to be a bit monotonous. And that is another reason why it is good that Tomáš Kočko appeared in Kytnar's orchestra again. Two years ago, he was impressive in the miniature piece Tak volá do hory (lyrics by Milan Rúfus) and this time he excelled in the aforementioned Šansón po večeri. The other two members of his orchestra, Tomáš Plch and Helenka Vyvozilová, who - under her maiden name Macháčková - worked with Tady To Máš in their early stages as a flutist, helped him in the dynamic passage with quotations of Edith Piaf. For completeness, we should add that in the song Krása pre krásu Vyvozilová plays the shawm and that for this song Tomáš Kytnar also invited nine ukulelists from Brno (members of Ukulele Orchestra jako Brno).
Despite these interesting guest artists, Srdiečka tiché is the most compact album of Tady To Máš – not only in terms of dramaturgy (focus on poetry by a single author), but also when it comes to mood and vocal expression. At the same time, I have a feeling that it is the least remarkable album, which, while not having weak spots, does not stand out in any way. But it is possible, even likely, that I will have time to correct this statement because Kytnar's work with poetry is more suitable for repeated and longer listening. It should also be noted that as a bonus the album contains a modification of the song by Vladimír Mišík Koukni na tu fotku that was originally released on the compilation Bazarem proměn. It is a bonus from a similar category as when the band offered covers of hits by David Bowie and the Rolling Stones on previous albums. However, the main pieces on the CD are hiding under numbers 1–9, including an alternative version of Šansón po večeri with the vocals of Tomáš Frgala, banjo by Miloš Železňák and accordion by the Belarusian accordionist Aliaksandr Yasinsky. Even just because of these unique combinations, Tady To Máš makes a lot of sense.
Tady To Máš: Srdiečka tiché; Released by Tomáš Kytnar 2015, 10 songs, duration 48:45
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