The mid-noughties may not have been the first time that Balkan sounds and "gypsy folk" entered the public's consciousness, but it was certainly a period that - on the back of releases from Balkan Beat Box, France's Caravan Palace and, obviously, Beirut's "Gulag Orkestar" - saw the region's influence and stock rise markedly in popular music.
These terms have now become legitimised, which means that it's just a matter of time before someone else comes along with something else. Step forward Shazalakazoo, a Serbian duo who actually predate all of the artists named above. Their Balkan beats fusion - baptised by the men themselves as "folkstep" - combines bass rhythms, plenty of brass, and a mish-mash of global beats and dance-hall vocals. Unfortunately, where the description sounds simply a bit curious, the product itself turns out to be almost entirely unlistenable.
The album cover, a kitsch-laden collage of magic eye colours and Serbian family life snapshots, should have been warning enough. Yet once in the player, the album - all fifteen soul-sapping tracks of it - proves to be equally garish. Repetition isn't necessarily a bad thing in music, but the ungodly brass parping of "Opla" and the force-fed cheeky-chappy fun - with all the charm of a sweaty school disco DJ entreating those present to get their dance on - are draining in the extreme. "Ava Kari" is equally tiresome, its traditional Balkan melodies criss-crossing awfully with Milan Djurić's reedy usb-clarinet and gruff chanting. This may purport to be party music in the Balkans, but all it brings to mind is crass vodka-sodden, wobbly-legged benders in a village hall somewhere in the back arse of nowhere. The whole album could be described as a real pick 'n' mix of influences had they not all been simply rammed through the eurobeat filter and spewed unthinkingly onto tape.
Case in point: "Sai For A", presumably Shazalakazoo's attempt to cash in on the worldwide popularity of Bossa Nova and Brazilian electroclash groups such as CSS and Bonde do Rolê. Replace Lovefoxxx's kooky yet magnetic charisma with MC Gi's stuck-up nasal screech - sounding like she's whining about a spilt drink - and you have the track in a nutshell. No doubt you too will be crying out "Sai Fora" by the end of the track. The duo clearly know when they're on to a good thing too, as Miss Gi pops up on a further two tracks, lending her dulcet tones to "Pura Cachorrada", a Rio-by-numbers banger complete with fucking whistles and lift-off sound effects, and the similarly limited "Halls Preto". As one ear-burning song merges seamlessly in the next sorry tale, it becomes harder and harder to find anything worthwhile to write about. The excruciating helium vocals on "Tallavangelist" are perhaps the nadir of the entire dismal project, but it's not an easy one to call. The bonus track of "Sunny Side Of The Street", a floppy, utterly charmless mess of semi-ska-fused pop with the infuriatingly looped and treated guest vocals from Sofija Knežević, is less a reward and more the final kick to the cochlea.
