Dueling Critics: Gogol Bordello, Transcontinental Hustle

Jocelyn Hoppa and Denise Sullivan debate the merits ofTranscontinental Hustle, the new release by Gogol Bordello, in a new column, Dueling Critics.

Denise: Hey Jocelyn, are you feeling the Transcontinental Hustle?

Jocelyn: Hmm… Well, mostly, the gist of my feelings about this new Gogol Bordello record is that I’m totally glad it exists, sort of like how I’m glad that the molecular food movement or HBO show Treme exists. Conceptually, I’m down with each of these things and glad that other people are getting something out of it, but…

Denise: I know, but… I’ve always liked the idea of Gogol Bordello and admire leader Eugene Hutz for turning on the unsuspecting alterna-peeps to his hardscrabble gypsy punk with a message. Hutz’s passion, his spirit of rebellion, and the group’s enthusiasm for playing music is undeniable in its grooves, and it totally appeals to me. There ain’t no stopping him and these accordions and violins from rockin’. If along the way you pick up on the allusions to Russian literature or the plight of the Romani people and other displaced tribes, that’s cool but not required. So how come it sounds more appealing in theory than infectious in reality?

Jocelyn: Well, not being terribly unfamiliar with the traditional music of Eastern Europe, as I’ve got some family ties to the area, I think what’s most interesting and probably the most difficult thing about Gogol Bordello’s richly developed Gypsy punk is that, unlike your take on it, I get this weird sense that it does require time to absorb fully, to truly recognize each element it contains—and the feelings and thoughts it has the ability to conjure—to really appreciate it. There’s the music, which, on its own, is something that those not generally familiar with will undoubtedly need at least a minute or two (or a drink or six) to register with its maniacal nature. And then there’s the lyrics, the moments of poetic political defiance and even some outright humor that thrive somewhere amongst all the fury of violin and accordion. But again, it takes a bit to fully recognize and appreciate those moments, first having to imbibe the mixed atmosphere of revolution-style messages and otherwise celebratory sounds that Gogol Bordello create like a bittersweet shot of Pelinkovac—no matter how many times you’ve done it, you can never be totally sure whether the result of it is going to drive you crazy in a good way or a bad way.

Denise: That’s it! I felt crazy while listening! And as you say, it’s a fine line between good and bad in that department. Say, what is this Pelinkovac of which you speak? Some local gypsy brew favored by your people? My people also have a national drink known to have its own unpredictable side effects…

Jocelyn: Yes, Pelinkovac is a lovely, bitter wormwood-based liquor that sort of resembles Jagermeister or Frenet, and is popular in Serbia and Croatia. It got me kicked out a bar once. Zivio! But back to what we were talking about: Crazy bad/good, with Gogol Bordello, it’s going to mean something no matter what because of that fact. And I’ll be the first one to agree that that is much better than approximately 90 percent of the music that 90 percent of the industry is feeding us these days. However, while it may not be required to get all of the allusions to Russian literature or the plight of displaced tribes, I think it’s also kind of dangerous not to. What if, hypothetically of course, you were diggin’ on some Jars of Clay bullshit, and you were an atheist and had no idea they were singing about Christianity? Not cool, right?

Denise: Well, I don’t know about that… If something finds its way to a listener and listener responds, then maybe it’s meant to be. I mean, the accidental Jars of Clay fan might’ve found what he was looking for and he didn’t even know it! I heard Dear Science by TV on the Radio from front to back for the first time while in a restaurant and totally locked into it—had no idea what it was, and that was it—bam. Of course, this is a great debate for another day. That said, if you are drawn to the sound of Gogol, perhaps that just might be your DNA responding and you may want to look into your family history. Then again, it could just be the alcohol talking.

Jocelyn: You definitely have a good point about the DNA thing (and the alcohol), and I’m sure it’s the band’s wish for people to just let go of whatever hang-ups they have and come to the music at whatever angle gets them there. But maybe what I mean is that it’s this situation where if I don’t understand the underlying message, the music is in jeopardy of coming off a little, I dunno, contrived?

Denise: I understand your requirement and generally I have my own stringent code, but in this case, I ultimately vote on the effectiveness of cross-cultural communication via the proverbial universal language. I’ve never been one to “get” every word, even when the words are in my native language. I’m afraid part of what I’m not “getting” here is the humor: This Gogol is way too much fun for the likes of me. “The Overcoat” by Nikolai Gogol is more my speed.

Jocelyn: Yeah, the speed thing is a pretty important element to this record, particularly the changing up of it. “Sun Is On My Side” is the first ballad we get, and it evokes a fair amount of emotion and exemplifies the band’s range, which I wasn’t completely aware of—totally a welcomed change of pace. But I’m not sure anything could ready me for the following track, “Rebellious Love”, which isn’t all that fun, unless we somehow magically just ended up on some bizarro episode of The Love Boat, in which case, sweet, a vacation. It’s so theatrical and functions almost as a caricature of itself and the band… this is where I get the contrived thing, ya know? All the talk of days being numbered and destiny… ugh. I mean, the more I listen to this record, my sense of urgency is getting a little weary.

Denise: Agreed—as in listening literally made me tired. I so appreciated “Sun Is On My Side”, and the other ballady piece, “When Universes Collide”, as pauses that refreshed. I hope it doesn’t betray my ignorance of French chanson to say the latter reminded me of Edith Piaf and Jacques Brel, though it probably will. As for the title song, I’m calling it a gypsy Bob Dylan meets gypsy Cab Calloway. Of course, all this is coming from the perspective of someone who really wants to love these guys and yet is having trouble getting past the Shane MacGowan and the Pogues thing.

Jocelyn: Luckily, for the band, over the course of Gogol Bordello’s career, they’ve garnered a cult following full of fans who are very willing to spend time with the material and latch onto the band’s ideals.

Denise: So in other words, our endorsement doesn’t really make a whole lot of difference.

Jocelyn: Well, that, and also, for all of those people, and there are many, this latest release should please them and will undoubtedly earn them many new fans. And they are pretty intense ones, if you’ve ever been to a show of theirs.

Denise: I have not.

Jocelyn: It’s fun, but it’s fun felt at a distance for me, like I’m not a member of that club or something. And because of that, it seems impossible to be a casual fan of theirs. If you come at this lightly, you’re probably drunk off your ass (me), which is fine and real fun, but on a sober day, unless their message lives and grows inside of you, you’re reaching for some other record. For my money and time, I’m pretty sure I’ll just go back to listening to something from the Southern Lord catalog soon after.

Denise: There you go with your metal madness… I’ve been meaning to speak with you about that, as it’s not an interest we share. Though until that time, it looks like we can we agree on a couple of things: The new Gogol Bordello album is fun but distancey, pertinently messagey, and sauced to the gills. As your people say, Zivio!

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