Last week's anti-war concert in Athens generated a lot of hate. It sounds strange, I know. Who, after all, could possibly be against a peace concert, and why? But this is Greece for you: since the peace concert had the support of left-wing opposition parties, government-controlled media (which is all of them, since ties between this governmant and Greek media moguls couldn't be tighter) made a huge fuss about the fact that initial posters didn't point the accusatory finger at Russia but carried the vague slogan "whatever the question, peace is the answer" (later amended with the addition "Stop the war in Ukraine/ Solidarity to refugees"). It gave them the chance to accuse the organisers as pro-Putin. The artists were bullied by the media, and their social media flooded by hate messages calling them "Putin's lackeys" or worse. Excessive maybe… but think of all the pent-up frustration of a lifetime of being confronted with left-wing righteousness. Now the center-right masses have a righteous cause of their own: not hippy-dippy peace, but the fight against a dreadful dictator and warmonger. They're even willing to welcome refugees - as long as they're white, Christian, and anti-communist, of course.
As for me, I'm one of those hippy-dippy peace lovers for sure. I was at kindergarten when the Vietnam War ended, but the Cold War was still in full swing while I was growing up. The influence of both on popular culture helped shape my ideas and tastes in music, literature, and films. Looking back on it, while activists of the time called specifically for the end of USA's intervention in Vietnam, it is the more abstract anti-war works that have stood the test of time better. I chose one of those to review, and - oh what a coincidence! to present the evils of war, Pearls Before Swine (PBS)'s leader Tom Rapp had chosen an obscure battle few of his listeners would have ever heard of: Balaklava. I never thought of researching what the cryptic album title meant before beginning this review. Well, Balaclava was a battle in the Crimean War, a war fought 170 years ago in the same fields that are now bloodied by the Russo-Ukrainian conflict. A look at military history maps eerily reveals the same place names that dominate today's news: Cherson, Odessa, Mariupol… Back in the 1850's, England and France had sent troops to what is now Ukraine (then part of Russia) to aid Ottoman Turkey. Turkey wasn't their ally, the aim of the Western powers was to stop Russia's expanding influence in the Balkans. Later (at World War I), England, France and Russia would team up against Turkey, Germany and Austria - until Soviet Russia changed sides, helping Turkey get rid of the Western powers' occupation… and round and round and round we go, killing and burning and destoying in the name of God, democracy, nationalism or communism - but really for money and power. The battle of Balaclava, incidentally, was only famous for the incompetence and disregard for human life on behalf of its generals. In what became known as the charge of the light brigade, the English commander sent his light cavalry into a frontal assault against the Russian canons, an act of foolish bravado and pointless sacrifice. Trumpeter Landfrey was the man who sounded the call for the charge, and he is also the one that opens this record in an audio clip lifted from a 1890 archival recording. This segues into "Translucent Carriages", a serene acoustic piece where Rapp's frail and melancholic vocal is accompanied by whispers. Ancient Greek writer Herodotus gets a co-write credit for his line "In peace/Sons bury their fathers/In war/Fathers bury their sons". Poignant words; indeed there can't be many sights more heartbreaking than that of a parent burying their child - yet 2,5 thousand years after Herodotus here we are still. "Images Of April" sounds idyllic with its flute flourishes and bird tweeting, but Rapp sings only of happiness lost. "There Was A Man" is a simple folk song: a stranger (Jesus?) comes to a town, performing beautiful miracles; when he hears the news from the war he leaves with tears in his eyes. The townspeople face his departure with indifference. "I Saw The World" is a more complicated composition featuring wind chimes and rich string arrangements while the singer pleads for peace "Hate is a chain/It all comes back again/Everything you do/Returns at last to you/So why don't you do love". It's this naivety that gets on conservatives' nerves: everyone knows you have to arm yourself to defend what's yours from your greedy neighbors - better yet, don't let them get strong; just kill them in their sleep before they do it to you, right? "Guardian Angels" seems like an escape attempt to a romantic past, a waltzy tune with wistful strings and a production that makes it sound like an old 78RPM record. It's followed by a faithful cover of Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne" - Cohen being then an unknown new Canadian singer, rather than the legend we now know him as. This made me realize the similarities between the artists, even though Rapp's voice is trembly and emotional where Cohen's is warm and soothing. "Lepers And Roses" is a materpiece of acid folk with gentle piano and flute backing, whose cryptic lyrics are full of mythical connotations. This is followed by another short archival recording: the voice of Florence Nightingale, a nurse during the Crimean War and a pioneer of public health and medical humanitarianism. The album closes with "Ring Thing", an amospheric piece with ambient sounds including gongs and bagpipes playing in the background while Rapp chants the "three rings for the elven kings" passage from Tolkin's Lord Of The Rings. The message is clear: the magic rings of the fable were supposed to bring power to their wielders but ultimately only benefited the Dark Lord - and the same is true for war: people on all sides always lose, only Death and Destruction are the winners of wars. After that, we hear the tape rewinding and come full circle to trumpeter Landfrey. Maybe Rapp wants to tell us that the cycle of war never ends; as it says on the back cover "only the dead have seen the end of war". Also on the back cover we see a photo of a "flower child" from an anti-war rally, and some disturbingly surreal drawings by Jean Cocteau. The front cover is one of the most striking I have ever seen, and a serious reason to buy it on vinyl: the eerie 16th Century painting The Triumph of Death by Flemish painter Pieter Bruegel manages to convey the horror of war better than any realistic depiction. This album is at once thought-provoking, melancholic, beautiful, and depressing. Musically it was a pioneering record in its experimental use of studio effects, archival recordings, and unusual instruments. Lyrically, its release at the height of the Vietnam War connected it immediately to the zeitgeist. How disappointing that it's still as relevant as it was then!
***** for Translucent Carriages, Images Of April, I Saw The World, Lepers And Roses
**** for There Was A Man, Suzanne, Guardian Angels, Ring Thing
*** for Trumpeter Landfrey, Florence Nightingale
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