Brzmi w Trzcinie #5: Dawno Temu, Jantar, GERDA, sztr, and more

We're back after a short break with more new music from Poland

Dawno Temu, Sacralia (Pointless Geometry)

Sacralia is the sophomore album from sound artist Agnieszka Bykowska under the moniker Dawno Temu: a measured, abstract work of remarkable clarity, and—conceptually—a reflection on the unraveling of the sacred onto the profane. Over its six meditative tracks, Bykowska deploys continuously pulsating synthesizer drones whose shapes are distinct but always at the brink of collapsing into one another. She uses the drones like a kid circling shapes on a puddle of water with a stick, their minimal traces disappearing almost as soon as they become apparent. She leaves a mark with them like a painter whose brush never loses touch with the canvas, eventually filling the entire space with a tangle of color. She stacks them on top of each other to create dense environments humming with life. Finally, she lets them loose, allowing for a playful, dramatic interaction with an improvised string ensemble (which includes a guest appearance from violinists Antonia Car and Joanna Szczesnowicz) in what is the album’s centerpiece: the fourteen-minute “Every Pause Strives for Admirance.” Dawno Temu’s music is never too minimal nor dark nor austere, even though on paper it might seem like all of those things. Like a ceremony perfectly executed, it celebrates itself through diligence and poise.—Patryk Mrozek

Jantar, Turnus (Thin Man Records)

Having played in countless projects and bands—including Stara Rzeka, Hokei, Ed Wood, Alameda 5, T'ien Lai—Kuba Ziołek is a veritable pillar of Polish independent and experimental music. The surprising hype over his latest project, the four-piece Jantar, seemed to be all about going “Brazillian” and “pop.” The group’s first two singles, “Bulwary” and “Jedna na milion, ”pretty much validate these tags. They're both catchy pieces of blissful, bossa nova-influenced guitar pop—the former soft and fuzzy, the latter more grounded and defined, recalling similar forays by The Sea and Cake. The album containing these two songs, Turnus, doesn't really stick to the pop idiom though. It mostly consists of longer, more exploratory pieces that stretch a gentle melodicism and push it into somewhat jazzier territories. There are patient buildups, gentle drifts and blooming arrangements that give plenty of the room to Grzegorz Tarwid's jazzy piano parts and almost proggy electric guitar outbursts of Krzysztof Kaliski. Here's the thing though: all these disparate parts hang together extremely well, connected by a dreamy aura, a polished-but-organic sound, the magical realism of the lyrics (enhanced by the vocals of Małgorzata Zielińska from similarily magically-minded Rycerzyki). It's a rich, lush, saturated record that will keep you discovering new favorite bits for weeks.—Łukasz Konatowicz

GERDA, Diabeł (Dyspensa Records)

For someone who dips their toes in music as just one of the many facets of their multidisciplinary art practice, Wojciech Bąkowski has surely chiseled a mature, one-of-a-kind voice—figuratively as much as, well, quite literally. As the undisputed focal point of his recordings, Bąkowski’s spoken word poetry borders on rapping due to his sharp, rhythmic delivery; set awkwardly against backdrops of austere drum machines and chintzy synthesized woodwinds, however, it comes off more like found sound. What that voice delivers though is just as crucial as its ghostly presence. Bąkowski’s lyrics tend to focus on the quiet absurdity of existing in the modern world, expressed at times with brutal directness and at times through ingeniously potent metaphors. Wojciech Bąkowski fills your head with ideas and feelings you wouldn’t dare to think you identified with.  

On DIABEŁ, the debut LP of a new project called GERDA, he is joined by drummer, percussionist and electronic musician Jan Piasecki of the London collective Uncanny Valley. Piasecki’s eclectic production, which boasts some of the catchiest industrial-tinged beats Bąkowski’s ever gotten to perform over, legitimately competes with the poet’s resonant voice for the center of attention. Bakowski responds with choice one-liners (“I have a thick skin that protects the world from me”) and darkly humorous world-building (topped with titular “Diabeł,” which recounts the writer’s day-to-day encounters with the devil, who goes as far as to “steal [Bakowski]’s moves”). This is yet another compelling release in a remarkably consistent oeuvre of work, and as a good an introduction to Bąkowski’s singular pursuit as any.—Patryk Mrozek

Franek Warzywa & Młody Budda, Komputer EP (self-released)

What’s made Franek Warzywa & Młody Budda a moderate Tik Tok sensation in Poland is their absurdist, fresh produce-worshiping humor and Franek Warzywa’s (“Frankie veggies”) quirkily affected, off-key vocals to match; they have further built on their reputation with high-energy live performances in full-on potato costumes. The duo’s latest EP doesn’t need to turn to gimmicks to keep things interesting though: Komputer deals in infectious, snazzily produced hyperpop that brings to mind Max Tundra, shibuya-kei, or even Brainiac, drawing in equal measure from angular guitar music, vaporwave, and twee. Above all, the EP is home to “Sześć Słońc”: an absurdly catchy song that transcends the duo’s many reference points into pure pop bliss, going in smooth like a summery 90s alt-rock hit.—Patryk Mrozek

sztr: Lawenda i len EP (Striptiz Records)

Lawenda i len (lavender and linen) is the debut solo EP from Paulina Sztramska, previously of Lora Lie and Brednie: a short and immediate record that can really make you go “OK, now I'm interested.” There's a certain awkwardness to sztr's songs and delivery that somehow gradually turns to strength as each song unfolds. The Polish speaking of you may notice some clunky verses, and anyone will detect a sort of nervous energy seeping from these tracks. Considering their minimal arrangements, they may also seem like a work in progress. But Sztramska makes it all work every time here—lyrically and melodically, she actually gets the point across. It's almost magical how in the opener “Rotunda” she goes from wispy vulnerability to magnetic and commandeering presence. The peak of the EP is probably “Nowe jeansy,” a gorgeous, hook-filled gem of doomer indie pop that's so fully formed it really doesn't need any more than the bedroom setup on offer here: any ornamentation could end up a clutter when you got guitar lines this cool.—Łukasz Konatowicz