Marc Almond
Orpheus in Exile

Who is Vadim Kozin in the first place? Vadim Kozin (1903 – 1994) was a Russian tenor who was all the rage in the '20s and '30s, a true national hero, so much so that he was called upon to entertain and boost the morale of Soviet troops during the Second World War. However, his celebrity did not prevent him from being interned in the Magadan gulag, where he was confined in 1944 under the full Stalinist regime: although it was never openly declared, it seems that the reasons for such a sentence were due to his alleged homosexuality. Despite a temporary release in 1950, Kozin would never be officially rehabilitated, and the famous singer, whose career was by then irreparably compromised, would die, at the age of ninety-one, precisely in Magadan, land of a long and painful exile.

Marc Almond certainly needs no introduction: the voice of Soft Cell, an undisputed icon of '80s pop, and later a protagonist of a fluctuating solo career in the years to come. My interest in him is undoubtedly due to the various appearances with Coil and Current 93, and for the beautiful “Feasting with Panthers” from last year, written in collaboration with that genius of music known as Michael Cashmore, historical guitarist of Current 93.

For fun, joke, curiosity, I then resurrected this work in which Almond (undoubtedly better as an interpreter of others' pieces and texts than as an author of his own material) intends to revitalize the art of Kozin, in many ways a gay icon avant la lettre, and for this reason (I suppose) celebrated by an artist like Almond. A project that certainly cannot be said to be thrown together or done just for the sake of it (despite the record bulimia that characterized this second youth of the singer, also recovering from a motorcycle accident that could have cost him his life), since a host of important professionals from Mother Russia, such as Alexei Federov, as producer, and director Anatole Sobolev, called to direct none other than the Rossia Orchestra Ensemble for the occasion: “Orpheus in Exile – Songs of Vadim Kozin” was released on September 7, 2009, obviously not sparing itself from the fire of controversy.

Even though Almond sings in English, the album firmly retains the atmosphere of the original songs: retro settings and romantic Russian cabaret popular between the two wars, just to be clear, and you will agree with me that for this reason the product will not be easily digestible to most, myself included.

Even when talking about music of excellent craftsmanship, well-played and superbly arranged, the stylistic coordinates are too far from the sound canons close to us to be adequately appreciated, so much so that I find it extremely difficult to describe its contents.

Let's therefore focus on Almond's interpretation: heartfelt, inspired, moving, and completely on point with the project's aims, as well as absolutely immersed in a suspended dimension between cabaret and melodrama, in which it seems Almond has always existed. Almond's voice is superlative (Almond is better than Antony), and it is astonishing how our electro-pop imp can feel comfortable among accordions, clarinets, violins, and much balalaika, amid Slavic folklore, gypsy atmospheres (Kozin's mother was gypsy), marches, and romances of an extremely (cloyingly) melodic nature. His voice, graceful and supple, seems not to know the passing of time, a perfectly tuned instrument capable of exploring the most difficult tonalities with an ease and naturalness that are miraculous.

From the opening of the fairy-tale “Boulevards of Madagan” (a country festival waltz) to the concluding, evocative “Letter from Madagan,” strategically placed at the start and end of the work to emphasize the theme of exile (and the controversial intent inherent in the project, which nonetheless prefers to celebrate the vitality and poetry of Kozin's music rather than dwell on the sappy, the nostalgic, and the sense of loss and injustice), there will not be many twists and turns for us, considering that all thirteen short vignettes painted here retain the same characteristics: lively and carefree at times (worth mentioning in this regard is “Brave Boy,” which remains the most memorable track, both for the “pre-noir” guitar which makes one of its rare appearances, and for the joyful choirs animating the chorus), poignant at others (the masterpiece “A Skein of White Cranes” and “Beggar,” for piano and voice alone), they are inevitably branded by the voice of an Almond literally in a state of grace, capable of expressing unexpected artistic maturity, succeeding especially in the (not easy) task of making songs his own that were composed even more than seven decades ago.

So I explain the reason for the three balls: everything is very beautiful, everything is very well done, but decidedly far from our tastes. And if a review is ultimately a piece of advice, then I recommend listening to “Orpheus in Exile” ONLY IF you are die-hard Marc Almond fans and cannot do without his every release; OR, alternatively, IF you have within you that nostalgia and motivation/mission that justify the use of your precious time for such a proposal. Under these conditions, for sure, Almond deserves one more ball.