Širom: In the Wind of Night, Hard-Fallen Incantations Whisper review | Jude Rogers' folk album of the month

(tak:til/Glitterbeat)
The Slovenian trio conjure strange beauty from a vast arsenal of global instruments in an album that hums, drones and dances with intense power

Some bands use a variety of traditional instruments to make music – and then there are Širom. A trio that formed a decade ago over interests in post-rock and drone (their name means “around” or “widely” in their native Slovenian), they list more than two dozen instruments in the liner notes of their fifth album, from the Persian gheychak to the Mongolian morin khuur. They create a palette that’s kaleidoscopic in its textural, dynamic and melodic explorations of sound.

Širom’s work is improvisatory, energetic and tuneful. Album opener Between the Fingers the Drops of Tomorrow’s Dawn merges repetitive, buoyant patterns on the balafon (a West African xylophone) with chiming lyres and bowed passages on the guembri (a Moroccan string instrument, which here recalls the work of the late double bassist Danny Thompson at his most agile). Tiny Dewdrop Explosions Cracking Delightfully has a title like a lost Cocteau Twins B-side, but comes across like a soundtrack to the movement of a gnarly, chirrupping sprite. Frame drums and violins accelerate us towards the track’s cacophonous climax, perfect for a headbanging hippy having a spiritual conversion to metal.