CD: Hanoi Masters - War Is a Wound, Peace Is a Scar

Touching field recordings from Vietnam

share this article

The scars of what they still call 'the American War'

The music of melancholia takes on varied forms on different continents: the religious spirit and anger of the blues contrasts with the edgy rebelliousness of Greek rembetika, and the spiritual longing and melismatic vocal whirling of the Turkish aman with the sweet sadness of Portuguese fado. In Vietnam, the black dog barks softly and blue moods are tinged with resignation and regret, an acceptance of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that owes a great deal to Confucian teachings on surrendering to one’s fate.

In this collection of recent field recordings, we hear from a variety of Hanoi vocalists and instrumentalists, whose music bears the scars of what they still call “the American War”. All the musicians lived through the Vietnam War, on the receiving end of US bomb strikes, and their sombre yet sweet music-making recalls the traditional sounds that have all but disappeared under the impact of Western rock, Korean pop and the Japanese invention of karaoke.

There is a disarming and engaging intimacy about these recordings, a freshness that might be impossible to achieve in the studio, and yet producer and engineer Ian Brennan has done the delicacy of the various and unusual string instruments proud, as well as catching the different voices with a sense of immediacy that allows the singers’ emotions to preserve a feeling of understatement without sounding too distant or reserved.

Sadly, pure emotion and the subtle sound of surrender only give us a general sense of the experience and context that has generated this magical music. Glitterbeat who are marketing this as the first in a series called “Hidden Musics” have decided not to print translations of the song’s lyrics – except for two tantalizing and very poetic extracts printed on the CD’s inner sleeve. Without this crucial element, the songs – for all their exquisite and unique beauty – are heard as if through a mist, exotic artefacts that touch us and yet feel in some way remote. The lyrics are almost certainly as powerful as the music, and it is a great pity that we don't get to know what the Hanoi masters have to say.

Add comment

The content of this field is kept private and will not be shown publicly.

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
  • Web page addresses and email addresses turn into links automatically.
In Vietnam, the black dog barks softly and blue moods are tinged with resignation and regret

rating

3

explore topics

share this article

the future of arts journalism

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing! 

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

more new music

With a line-up that includes Exodus and Carcass, a top-notch night of the heaviest metal
Leading Kurdish vocalist takes tradition on an adventure
Scottish jazz rarity resurfaces
A well-crafted sound that plays it a little too safe
Damon Albarn's animated outfit featured dazzling visuals and constant guests
A meaningful reiteration and next step of their sonic journey
While some synth pop queens fade, the Swede seems to burn ever brighter
Raye’s moment has definitely arrived, and this is an inspirational album
Red Hot Chilli Pepper’s solo album is a great success that strays far from the day job
The youthful grandaddies of K-pop are as cyborg-slick as ever