Firma, Poezii alese vol. I

You probably know by now exactly how dear Firma are to me and how much I could fangirl over Rocca if left undisturbed. And especially after watching them in Desteptarea primaverii, doing something out of their comfort zone and once more excelling at it, I was quite excited to hear the Poezii alese album and loved the concept of trying to bring attention to Romanian poetry. But I’m sad to say the result is not exactly what I expected.

First of all, it’s not an actual music album, it’s more of a collection of poems with a soundtrack. With a few exceptions (like Una e, alta e) the soundtrack isn’t half bad, because it’s you know, Firma and I love them and they can do no wrong in my eyes, but I feel like there’s too little of them and too much of something that I would rather picture in a spoken word event. As I already mentioned a number of times, I absolutely cannot stand people talking over instruments in a song and since all tracks of Poezii alese are doing exactly that, one can imagine my disappointment. Maybe I’m not open minded enough, but in my eyes music should primarily rely on… you know, music, not words that are recited instead of sung.

Second, I’m really not a fan of the more modern currents of poetry, and Poezii alese relies heavily on them. In my eyes rhyme and rhythm are what separate poesy from mere oration and I’m sorry, but pink bags and gym equipment are of a mundanity that I can not get behind of in the realm of art. I understand realism, the aesthetics of the ugly, liberation from constraints and all that, but I still feel like art should at the very least evoke some emotions. Maybe not the most positive emotions, maybe not in the most polished or elegant way, but I would still like it to mean something. “Nu-mi place poezia/ nu-mi place carnea de porc” (I don’t like poetry/ I don’t like pork meat) doesn’t quite have the same impact of “Și nu demult/ Când eram pământ/ Nu te puteam atinge/ Dar te iubeam in gând” (When I was still dust, I couldn’t touch you, but I already loved you) even in terms of meaning, let alone when it comes to sonority and the flowing of the words. I’m not saying there isn’t depth there, or that the hint of existential crisis doesn’t reach me, but the prosaicness and banality are so overwhelming that everything becomes underwhelming. Also, relying on the constant repetition of a catch phrase (“I don’t like” or “it’s one thing to… it’s another to”) is a trait of modern lyricism that feels lazy and irritating, whether it’s used in music or poems. 

Still, there are moments that make the whole experience worth it. The contrast between the romanticism of Eminescu’s lyrics and the eeriness and strange harmonies of O, ramai provide quite an interesting contrast, Vis cu cai has a heaviness and anger that I don’t think I’ve heard in this band before, while Daca ne-am ucide unul pe altul is a more traditional Firma track, simple and with a nice swing, yet also containing a hidden melancholy and Rocca’s sensual and sightly taunting voice can give personality to even the most banal music. But my favourite track is In lemn, which I’ve grown to like more than I ever expected to. It’s short and it also uses recordings of the creator reciting the poem like all the other pieces (less so, though, and there’s more focus on Rocca’s singing, which definitely helps), but the sad piano, the minimalistic vocals and the theme create a soaring and a bit otherworldly atmosphere that absolutely gets to me. 

I have to admit that overall Poezii alese vol I doesn’t sound as pretentious and artificially artsy as the first paragraphs would make you think. But honestly, I imagine this has more to do with my completely unobjective love for Firma and less with how the record actually sounds to a neutral ear. I do respect what they are trying to do, I appreciate that they’ve been experimenting so much lately and not letting themselves be confined by gender or even type of art boundaries, but I’m not going to pretend I’m ever going to replay this record from start to finish, nor that I embrace the “vol I” implication of a sequel. I’m rather looking forward to Desteptarea primaverii‘s soundtrack (which is a musical gem that I haven’t been able to stop humming for the past few months) and I’m using the promise of its release next year as a consolation for this album that I don’t particularly like or feel connected to.