Album Review: Traditionelle Volksmusik auf historischen Instrumenten by Hayner Dorfmusikanten
If you’ve ever wondered what it’d be like to stumble into a Bavarian village fair circa 1850, Traditionelle Volksmusik auf historischen Instrumenten is your golden ticket. Released in 1983 (yeah, they were late to the party but who’s counting?), this German folk masterpiece from the label Dickworz Bladde feels like stepping back in time—minus the questionable hygiene and lack of Wi-Fi.
The Hayner Dorfmusikanten crew bring their A-game with an arsenal of quirky instruments that sound like they were borrowed straight outta grandma’s attic. Torsten Dreier on accordion? Check. Hanns-Ludwig Jessl slapping that acoustic bass? Double check. And let’s not forget Bettina Stier on hurdy gurdy—a name so fun to say, I just said it five times while writing this. Add Marianne Kirschner piping away like she’s summoning woodland spirits, and boom—you’ve got yourself some legit ear candy.
Now, onto the tracks. There are thirteen total, which sounds suspiciously biblical, but don’t worry; no plagues here, only polkas. Two standouts for me were “Plätscherpolka / Schlupptanz” and “Die Dorfmusikanten / Die Schöne Wulka.”
First up, “Plätscherpolka / Schlupptanz.” This one hits like a cold mug of beer on a hot summer day—it’s refreshing, fizzy, and makes you wanna grab someone by the hand and spin ‘em around until you both fall over laughing. The accordion work by Torsten Dreier is so lively, it practically leaps outta the speakers and starts doing cartwheels across your living room floor. It’s impossible not to remember because it feels like pure joy bottled up and served with a side of schnitzel.
Then there’s “Die Dorfmusikanten / Die Schöne Wulka,” which might as well come with its own little storybook. Something about the way those pipes wail alongside the hurdy gurdy gives off serious fairy-tale vibes—as if Red Riding Hood herself could pop out at any moment offering breadcrumbs or whatever. It’s haunting yet oddly comforting, like finding an old photo of your ancestors looking grumpy but secretly proud.
What really sticks with me about this album isn’t just how catchy these tunes are—it’s how alive they feel. These aren’t polished studio creations designed to climb Spotify charts; they’re raw, heartfelt performances that smell faintly of hay bales and roasted chestnuts. You can almost picture the band huddled together in a cozy barn somewhere, jamming till dawn breaks.
So yeah, if you’re looking for something different—something that’ll make your Spotify algorithm scratch its head in confusion—give Traditionelle Volksmusik auf historischen Instrumenten a whirl. Just don’t blame me when you catch yourself attempting a polka solo in your kitchen. Trust me, it happens.
Final thought: Listening to this album feels like discovering an ancient recipe scribbled on parchment—it’s messy, unexpected, and leaves you wondering why modern music doesn’t taste quite this good anymore. Or maybe I’m just hungry now. Either way, worth every penny.
