Sibel Tüzün
Saten

Sibel Tüzün, the multifaceted Turkish artist who has accustomed us over her long career to image transformations and transitions from grunge to rock, from ethnic to discodance, returns to the music scene after a full five years.

“Saten”, this is the title of the short album (only 5 tracks) released by Tüzün a few weeks ago, is a return to the past, resuming the ethnic discourse started with “Kirmizi” in 2004 and continued with the EP the following year but abruptly interrupted after her appointment to represent Turkey at the Eurovision Song Contest 2006 with the piece “Süper Star” which led the singer to a turn towards more pop and dance genres, and especially due to the break of several years given by the birth of her son.
In truth, the album had been in the works since 2005. In fact, in that year, a pilot single was released for download on iTunes titled “Seviyorum Sevecegim” (I Love You and I Will Love You), which did not have time to win the public's favor due to the more important (and much more publicized) participation in the Eurofestival in Athens. After two years dedicated to dance and another two spent producing jazz (with excellent results, by the way) in a duo with Selen G, but never releasing any album, Tüzün brings “Saten” back to life, rearranges it, probably re-records it, and finally releases it.

The album, missing “Seviyorum Sevecegim”, opens with the title-track. From the first notes, warm rhythms unfold, with oriental percussion and exquisitely Turkish atmospheres. We find ourselves in a sunny and welcoming, warm and fascinating Anatolia. Nothing to do with the ultra-modern and Western Istanbul we might have imagined with the dance singles “Aç Telefonu” and “Yaz Aski” from two years ago. There is no lack of some rockish hues with electric guitar incursions, making the execution more vibrant and fun. The track is catchy and Tüzün's voice does not lose its characteristic sensual and warm sound, the unifying theme of the entire album. The typical vocalizations of Anatolian and Middle Eastern music are just hinted at and do not disturb; on the contrary, they fascinate.

It is followed by “Çok” (“very”), which opens with a combination of winds and strings. The atmosphere is the same as the previous piece, perhaps vaguely more melancholic. But it is “Erkekleri Taiyin” (knowing the men), a cover of Ajda Pekkan's piece, that is in my opinion the jewel of the album. The rhythms become pressing, the melody is extremely cheerful and charming. It feels like witnessing the celebrations for a beautiful wedding or a circumcision, where men and women of all ages throw themselves into traditional dances – similar throughout the Mediterranean, from Sardinia to Greece, from Turkey to Malta. The male choirs give an even more Anatolian touch but do not disturb: they are just hinted at and the voices blend well with Tüzün's, which, although lively and amused, remains warm and deep.
“Sana Anlatman Lazim” has equally energetic rhythms, but is decidedly more sensual and romantic compared to the previous one. Tüzün lets her voice soar, engaging in long vocalizations, impeccable trills, and high notes, supported by the omnipresent percussion. Sensuality and energy blend into an extremely captivating piece.
To close, we have the only ballad of the tiny album, “Maalesef” (Unfortunately). The atmosphere becomes slow and extremely romantic and sweet. After the first minute of vaguely melancholic rhythms, the electric guitar enters the scene again, accompanied by drums, giving the piece a structure that is melancholic yet certainly more energetic.
The album concludes in this way, leaving the listener still breathless, yearning to be further delighted by tracks of such quality and beauty. The brevity of “Saten” is somewhat disappointing: when I finally got my copy, my first thought was that, after so many years of semi-silence, I would have expected something more from Sibel Tüzün. More, not better, because these five pieces are truly – in my opinion – beautiful, and perhaps for this very reason, they are not enough. If it were up to me, instead of “Saten”, I would title this album “Coitus Interruptus”. Ironic.