AN EDINBURGH-BASED band, comprising musicians from Scotland, England and Brazil, playing primarily klezmer and Balkan-based music on violin, piano, accordion, double bass and hand-percussion: it might sound like a bit of an oddity, but then that's pr
ecisely what Moishe's Bagel rejoice in being. With its membership's backgrounds encompassing a wide diversity of disciplines and traditions, including classical, Latin, Indian, rock, avant-garde, folk and jazz, this brilliantly accomplished and adventurous five-piece emphatically puts the "class" into "unclassifiable".
They set out their stall here with the typically kaleidoscopic delights of Lev's Freilachs, more of a mini-suite than merely a tune. It commences with a slow-burn, gypsy-hued melody from violinist Greg Lawson, gradually building in intensity before taking flight through a dizzying array of musical moods and landscapes, by turns exultant and tragic, passionate and playful, lyrical and melodramatic. The music's restless yet seamlessly fluid mutability is underpinned by fine-tuned ensemble cohesion and purpose, not to mention awesome technical prowess.
With the band now having been together five years, and self-penned material forming an increasingly large share of their rep ertoire, their melting-pot of influences has grown steadily richer. MacGoldberg's Jig and Reel, for instance, opens with a lively, minimalist-style piece composed "in response to Philip Glass's lack of interest in writing music for us", which then segues into a pair of Scottish dance tunes crossbred with klezmer tonalities. Another set partners a dreamy Breton air with a stormy Serbian number, while The Spar Shuffle leads from a mournful Jewish processional anthem into a hectic strathspey/jig medley inspired by the human zoo of a 24-hour shop in Glasgow. At times the sound recalls the madcap antics of Raymond Scott's classic cartoon scores, elsewhere the romantic grandeur of a tango orchestra.
On the one hand, Moishe's Bagel dazzle with their lavish virtuosity, be it in intricately layered ensemble passages or breathtaking solo turns. Especially in their own compositions, there's no mistaking that this is rigorously wrought, extremely demanding music, and yet this technical wow-factor is never allowed to dominate over the visceral, sweaty gusto with which it's delivered, nor over the band's ever-lurking sense of mischief.
• Until 24 August
The full article contains 381 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
