Dixit Dominus by Armonico Consort & Emma Kirkby: A Heavenly Mess You Didn’t Know You Needed
So, here’s the deal. If you’re into baroque music but don’t want to feel like you’ve accidentally stumbled into a dusty cathedral at midnight, Dixit Dominus might just be your jam. Released in 2004 (yeah, that’s right—this baby’s almost two decades old), this album is brought to us by the UK-based crew of Armonico Consort and vocal legend Emma Kirkby, under the Deux-Elles label. Spoiler alert: it's less "church choir snoozefest" and more "oh wow, I think my soul just did a backflip."
Let’s dive straight into why this thing sticks with ya. First up, the title track, “Dixit Dominus.” It opens with a bang—or rather, an explosion of choral brilliance so sharp it could slice through a block of cheddar. The blend of voices feels like stepping into a warm bath, if that bath was also electrified. There’s something about how Emma Kirkby floats above the ensemble like she’s casually auditioning for angel duty—it’s ethereal without being overly pious. By the time the trumpets kick in (yes, there are trumpets!), you’ll wonder why all church music doesn’t sound this thrilling.
Then there’s “Laudate Pueri,” which hits different because it’s got rhythm—for real. Like, tap-your-foot-in-a-fancy-way rhythm. The interplay between soloists and the group creates these little moments where you can practically hear everyone grinning while they sing. It’s joyful, clever, and slightly unhinged in the best possible way. Imagine Bach deciding to cut loose at a barn dance, and you’re halfway there.
Now, let’s talk production. This isn’t one of those glossy modern recordings; instead, it has a raw, organic vibe that lets every note breathe. Sure, sometimes the balance feels like someone forgot to adjust the mixer, but honestly? That adds charm. It’s imperfectly perfect, like finding a typo in your favorite book—it makes it human.
Here’s the kicker: as much as this album screams “respectable classical playlist material,” it sneaks up on you when you least expect it. One minute you’re folding laundry, the next you’re air-conducting wildly in your living room while shouting Latin phrases you definitely don’t understand. And hey, isn’t that what great music does? It turns mundane moments into tiny miracles.
Final thought: If Handel were alive today, he’d probably listen to this album on repeat—and then steal some ideas for himself. Or maybe he’d just ask Emma Kirkby out for tea. Either way, Dixit Dominus deserves a spot in your collection, even if only to remind yourself that sacred music doesn’t have to take itself too seriously. Cheers to that!
