Named after the funky, heterogeneous neighbourhood in Paris, and founded by the two Frenchmen behind the label of the same name as well as the Chicha Libre project, Barb\u00e8s is an unassuming little sweatbox in Brooklyn\u2019s Park Slope district. Its reputation dwarfs its limited legal capacity, thanks to the booker\u2019s enlightened discernment and rigorous standards. It\u2019s a joint where you might walk in on a champeta party, an all-nite gnawa rite, or a Nigerian revision of the Georges Brassens songbook. And like any other live-music venue these days, its doors are shut tight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For 16 years, every Tuesday without fail \u2013 squeezed in between Tropical Vortex Mondays and the Mandingo Ambassadors\u2019 mid-week residency \u2013 the nonet Slavic Soul Party! have filled the cramped back room of Barb\u00e8s with eruptions of furiously energetic Balkan brass funk. They even recorded their raw, chunky rendition of Duke Ellington\u2019s Far East Suite<\/em> there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now, of course, their perfect attendance record has been spoiled. As they wait impatiently to return to the stage, they\u2019ve rooted through their files for live recordings of their sets at Barb\u00e8s, and are sharing a new one every Tuesday. The first is this medley of material captured last summer. Okay, it\u2019s not quite the same as the real thing, but kill a bottle of vodka, plant yourself face down on the floor, and crank this shit\u2026 it makes a passable placebo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n