review by:
The Condor
The first Za Frûmi was brilliant: dark and twisted,
creepy and otherworldly; with plenty of orcish scuffles, violent sounding
battles and arduous treks through dark forests filled with wild beasts
and mysterious dangers. The new Za Frûmi sounds like Yanni or Kitaro;
like the orcs gathered up all the fairies and pixies and elves and had
themselves a little renaissance faire. Barely any orc interactions, just
lots of super gay flutes and synthesizer melodies. Sounds like it could
be a piece by John Tesh called "Dance of the Orcs." WAY disappointing.
review by: Steppenvvolf
Za Frûmi's patrons have been waiting eagerly
for their new album. For those who don't know: Za Frûmi has been
devoted to telling with its music the life and wants of orcs, who are
all named and characterized in the accompanying album booklet. One example
of the seven character descriptions is of Uglakh: "A huge and imposing
uruk, the great orc leader's features are set with grim determination
and undeniable authority. He towers over his clansmen, and they respect
his leadership."
Seventeen tracks accompany the orcs after their journey
to the South and the flight from the vampire Ismael (detailed in the debut
album) to the shaman Shakapon, who tells them to find three bones: one
from a cave, one from an ancient lake and one from a ruined city. The
dialogues are in Orcish (a language that can actually be spoken by now,
because it was assembled from Tolkien's books and added to a full command
of words), but is only restricted to a couple of sentences per track,
which should already emphasize the necessity of the music bridging the
gap, and catching the emotions and moods as the characters go on their
quest. This use of the word "should" already gives the cue for
a whole stack of critiques of this album.
Unlike the first album, Za Frûmi uses almost
solely uses cheap synthie-sounds that strongly remind of the 70s heyday
of MIDI. One can really feel how the keyboard keys are being hit to elicit
those *Program 0815 Tone bank* flute sounds, which sometimes come over
as a modern day fun-fair; sometimes as middle-ages sideshow minstrel fiddling.
Sometimes Za Frûmi falls back to use drumming
sequences that I last must have heard when playing "Giana Sisters"
on my good old Commodore 64. A definite must-hear is the track "Alokh's
Vision." It made me think of the dumb-smiling Camel Cigarette camel
walking in its ludicrous gait on clouds in company with Dr.Snuggles on
his flying machine. (what the fuck? J- Roberto)
Whereas, what I was meant to imagine was the orcs in front of a magic
mirror with each of them having his own vision. Of all the characters,
Yagul's vision is probably closest to mine: he dreams of being offered
huge magical mushrooms. I wonder if "magical" is only a typo
error and should read "magic" instead...
I would like to add that despite the keyboard, the
compositions themselves are good - but I can't. Take "Alba Fashat"
(the elven village): it's meant to describe how the orcs are "severly
outnumbered by elves, deciding to pass in silence." The elves fire
some warning shots. Za Frûmi decides to underline the situation
with the happy minstrel sounds and pushes on with its sort of restless
easy listening ear stroking.
Uh, yes, and before I forget to mention: "Tach
was recorded in lots of woods, lakes, rivers, caves and a castle in Sweden
during 2001." I wonder where the samples to those places are hiding
on the CD.
Sorry Za Frumi, but this album is crap. I have seldom
been disappointed by an album as much as I am with this one. Please record
chapter three, but take your time and do it according to your skills.
review by: Roberto
Martinelli
I can't help but agree with The Condor's opinion.
Za Frûmi's first album, Za Shum Ushatar Uglakh (review and
interview
in issue #3), succeeded due to the fact the sounds didn't seem like they
were produced by a synthesizer; no cheap keyboard tones like those that
are found on a lot of those Cold Meat Industry projects. Also, the appeal
of the sheer ludicrousness of an album entirely in Orc was irresistible.
While the formula is still the same on Tach, the instrument sounds
from the first one must have been lost, or something. This in turn has
seemingly also washed away the aura of mystery and culthood that the first
has in bushels. Za Frûmi is inherently silly, but while the first
album was triumphantly so, the new one falls short. Still, the element
of interest through the storyline is present, and I am left wanting to
know how the tale continues after the album's sudden, dangling plot twist.