Album Review: Abendglocken by Iwan Rebroff – A Folk-Schlager Journey That’s Hard to Forget
Let’s be real, folks. When you hear “Iwan Rebroff,” your brain might go, “Wait… who?” But trust me, this guy was the king of deep-voiced charm back in 1969 when Abendglocken dropped. Released under CBS and Deutscher Schallplattenclub (try saying that five times fast), this album is like a musical postcard from Germany with stamps from Russia, Ukraine, and wherever else folk vibes were brewing at the time. It’s got pop, it’s got Schlager, it’s got world music before we even called it that—and somehow, it all works.
Now let’s talk tracks, shall we? This baby has gems like Schiwago-Melodie (Lara’s Theme)—you know, the one that makes you wanna grab a fur coat and stare dramatically into the snow while humming along. If you’ve ever seen Doctor Zhivago, you’ll recognize this tune faster than you can say “romantic turmoil.” The way Rebroff delivers it feels both nostalgic and fresh—an odd combo, but hey, he pulls it off. Paired with the Balalaika Ensemble Troika (shoutout to these string wizards), it’s basically auditory comfort food for anyone who loves melodies dripping with emotion.
Then there’s Moskauer Nächte. Oh man, if this track doesn’t make you want to waltz around your living room knocking over furniture, nothing will. It’s smooth, dreamy, and just a little bit mysterious—as if Moscow nights are hiding secrets only Iwan knows about. Spoiler alert: they probably involve balalaikas and moonlit lakes.
Other highlights include Zwei Gitarren, which is exactly what it sounds like—a guitar duet that’s so simple yet so satisfying, it’s almost criminal. And don’t get me started on Eintönig Hell Klingt Das Glöckchen. Yeah, yeah, the title’s a mouthful, but once the bells kick in, you’re hooked. It’s catchy without being annoying, kind of like that friend who always remembers your birthday but never asks to borrow money.
So why does Abendglocken stick in my head? Maybe it’s because it’s not trying too hard to impress. It’s cozy, unpretentious, and full of heart—like an old sweater that somehow still fits perfectly after decades. Or maybe it’s just the fact that listening to Rebroff’s rich bass voice feels like getting a warm hug from someone who really means it.
Final thought: If albums could cook dinner, Abendglocken would serve borscht with a side of pretzels. Weird? Sure. Memorable? Absolutely. Now excuse me while I queue up Katjuschka again—I need more of that folky goodness in my life.
