The name means \u201cgive and take\u201d in archaic Ukrainian \u2013 which is odd for such a remarkably uncompromising act. It\u2019s also a reference to DAKH, the contemporary arts centre in Kiev from whence the band sprang in 2004. DakhaBrakha is the brainchild of avant-garde theatre director Vladyslav Troitskyi, the band\u2019s backstage mastermind to this day. The theatricality extends beyond their striking attire and stage shows, and shapes the music itself, a Brechtian revision of Gogol Bordello\u2019s Slavic folk-punk cabaret, boasting a stripped-down, street-corner version of Le Myst\u00e8re des Voix Bulgares.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Their reconfigured village tunes from various provinces of the Ukraine, alongside crafty original concoctions, range from sore, incremental laments (\u201cSonnet\u201d, and the haunting title track) to the rousing stomper \u201cLado\u201d and the cartoonish chaos of \u201cVynnaya ya\u201d, an exploding cuckoo-clock of a track. Accordion, cello, and bass drum are the essentials of the quartet\u2019s all-acoustic instrumentation, though they\u2019ll employ whatever they find useful, locally sourced or otherwise. Vocally, the foregrounded female trio with a gruff masculine foil proves dynamic, the band\u2019s forte even. There\u2019s more than a hint of the lascivious running through the whole thing \u2013 from the sultry \u201cTorokh\u201d: \u201cAnd we, unmarried fair maidens, are just having fun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n