Gogol Bordello

I don't care what my boyfriend says (his exact words: "C'est n'importe quoi!"), Gogol Bordello is one of the most exciting bands in years.

I just acquired Live From Axis Mundi which absolutely strenghtens my belief that Gypsies (accordeon, violin and washing boards playing Gypsies, for that matter) have saved punk, the whole genre, from the horrible pop-punk mess Green Day's followers had turned it into. Maybe I should blame Green Day themselves, but part of me still likes Dookie, so I'll just blame everyone who utterly failed to copy them properly.

Gogol Bordello made punk edgy again. Made it arousing and purposeful again, even eloquent again, despite, or maybe because of its use of multiple languages and it's heavily accented English lyrics.

Super Taranta! is already one of my favourite album in recent history, and although I usually enjoy some orchestration differences from the original studio version of songs when they are played live on CD, especially on BBC Sessions (although I must say that their rendition of Alcohol on it is absolutely breathtaking), Live From Axis Mundi is an excellent bargain. The live CD tracks are not the things to get most excited about, but the fact that it holds a full lenght DVD of a New-York gig (their hometown) of very decent quality, as well as some extras and four videos.

If anything, the DVD absolutely reinforced my conviction that we all need to watch out for that Eugene Hutz gentleman. He is, without a doubt, one of the strongest front men to emerge in recent year, if not because of vocal prowess, definitely for the sheer intensity (all right, the whole band is this atomic bomb of energy, like they all forgot to take their Ritalin or something) he puts out on stage and the crazed charisma of his performing. He sings, he screams, he kicks the air, he jumps, he gets the people in the crowd going and they eat it all up with complete enthusiasm. A beautiful performance to watch, and even if I was really lazily laying on the couch, it was hard not to tap my feet and to suppress the urge to start thrashing along.

Eugene is this strangely fitting Ian Anderson and Frank Zappa alloy, but... you know, maniacally speeded up. Yum.