Album Review: Songs Of Yakutia Northern Peoples by Aleksander Samsonov (1992)
Let’s get one thing straight—this isn’t your Spotify algorithm's usual fare. No auto-tuned heartbreak anthems or bass drops here. Nope, Songs Of Yakutia Northern Peoples is as raw and earthy as it gets. Released in 1992 on the Russian Disc label, this folk masterpiece dives deep into the soul of Russia’s northern tribes. It’s like someone took a time machine to Yakutia, hit record, and came back with gold. Or, well, at least something way cooler than whatever was topping the charts that year.
The album brings together tracks inspired by the Evenki, Russian, Even, and Yukaghir peoples. Each song feels like a whispered secret from another world. You can practically smell the Siberian frost and hear the crackling fires. Now, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I understand every word—it’s mostly in languages I couldn’t even find on Duolingo—but trust me, you don’t need Google Translate to feel the vibe.
Take “Evenki,” for example. This track hits you right in the feels. It starts off slow, almost hesitant, like it’s unsure whether you’re worthy of hearing its story. Then BAM—it builds into this hypnotic chant that makes you wanna grab a drum and join in, even if you’ve never held a musical instrument in your life. There’s something about the rhythm that sticks to your brain like gum under a school desk. Days later, I caught myself humming it while waiting for my coffee. Embarrassing? Maybe. Catchy? Absolutely.
Then there’s “Yukaghir,” which is basically the opposite. Where “Evenki” feels communal, this one’s intimate. It’s just voice and strings, stripped down to the bare bones. Listening to it feels like overhearing someone pour their heart out in a quiet room. The melody lingers, haunting and beautiful, like that one friend who always says profound stuff after midnight. Honestly, it made me rethink all my life choices. Thanks for that, Aleksander.
What’s wild about this album is how unpolished it feels. These aren’t studio-perfect recordings; they’re real, gritty, and alive. You can almost picture Samsonov tromping through the tundra with a tape recorder, chasing echoes of ancient songs. Sure, some tracks might sound repetitive if you’re used to modern pop structures, but that’s kinda the point. This music doesn’t care about hooks or trends—it exists because it has to.
So, would I recommend Songs Of Yakutia Northern Peoples? Absolutely. But not for everyone. If you’re looking for background noise while folding laundry, keep scrolling. If you want an experience that feels like stepping into another culture’s living room—or yurt—this is your jam. Just don’t blame me when you start craving borscht and snowmobiles.
Final thought: Listening to this album feels like finding an old, dusty book in a forgotten library. And let’s be honest, who doesn’t love a good mystery? Except maybe my cat, who now refuses to listen to anything except Taylor Swift. Traitor.
