Released: February 21st 2005

The Karelia are not a band that would sound familiar to most, and that is quite a shame. It could have something to do with the heavy jazz, ska, and other out-of-the-way influences that heavily permeate every track.

Featuring Alex Kapranos (then accredited as Huntley) of Franz Ferdinand fame on vocals, guitar, bouzouki and banjolele, Glen Thompson, now the Franz manager (small world), on bass guitar and percussion, Allan Wylie on trumpet, and Thom Falls on drums (what a talented bunch), the quartet released their only record, ‘Divorce at High Noon’, on Roadrunner Records in 1997. As the copies went scarce, selling for small fortunes on eBay, Roadrunner timely decided to re-release the album for those wishing to hear the earlier work of that enigmatic, cutting edge (and fringe) musician, Alex Kapranos.

Containing the original fifteen tracks plus bonus material consisting of two more tracks and a video (the only one the band made), it is a very interesting listen, though not so easily accessible on the musical level. It is a far cry from the simple, catchy tunes of Franz Ferdinand and seems more like an experiment in sound and song structure. Songs range from a fifty second romp of sound to a ten minute philosophical discussion complete with imitated, quirky voices that make it quite the retelling.

Alex croons, growls, and affects the “tones of a retard” on some of the best lyrics written to date (as if anything less was expected). The title track, ‘Divorce at High Noon’, backed up by the insistent trumpet, gets a remodeling as ‘De Veaux Ca Taille Nous Une’, boasting vocals in French. But do not try to find meaning in that nonsensical title; it’s simply the phonetic pronunciation of its English counterpart. ‘Love’s a Cliché’ is best listened to on a rainy afternoon. The original version that is; the single is polished off and ups the pace for the simple video which displays their tamer side and Kapranos‘ sizable sideburns (where were the fangirls then?). ‘To His Coy Dietress’ is as titillating as a confectionary and is most likely not so perverse as you think, (”Could you encircle me/with lips that aquiver and drip for me?”), but we can pretend, though ‘The Infinite Duration’ most certainly is as morbid as you imagine it to be. And Thom’s and Alex’s Greek roots show through in the stomping melodies of ‘Dancing Along to Nekrotaphion’ and ‘The Devil Rides Hyndland’.

They’ve got a serious side, too; ‘Life in a Barrat Garret’ decries the monotonous life of those content enough to follow the safe and conventional standards of society, while ‘Say Try’ echoes the same sentiment (”Why do you aspire to be/what you need not be?”). And ‘Garavurghty Butes’ is a veritable feast of spoken word, culminating in the anthemic shout of the track name.

The clever lyrics are best appreciated when hand in hand with their musical complement and their genius is best realised when heard. So what are you waiting for?

Previously published on This Is Fake DIY.