Album Review: Disc Pentru Manualul De Limba Engleză Anul I Liceu Anul V De Studiu (1973)
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when education meets vinyl, look no further than Disc Pentru Manualul De Limba Engleză Anul I Liceu Anul V De Studiu. Released in 1973 by the Romanian label Electrecord, this gem is not your typical “put it on and vibe” kind of album. Nope. It’s more like “put it on and conjugate.” With authors Aurelia Voinea, Tina Herescu-Daniil, and V. Ștefănescu-Drăgănești at the helm, this record was clearly designed to make learning English as dry as possible—but somehow, it’s oddly charming.
The album dives straight into its mission with tracks that are basically glorified audiobooks for high schoolers. You’ve got lessons like "Lecția 9" and "Lecția 15," but don’t expect any funky basslines or epic guitar solos here. Instead, it’s all about phrases like “The cat is on the table” and awkward attempts at conversational English. Spoiler alert: there’s a lot of repetition. Like, a lot. If you thought hearing “Conversație” once would be enough, think again—it pops up multiple times, just in case you forgot how thrilling small talk can be.
But hey, let’s give credit where it’s due. Two tracks stuck out to me, mostly because they were so hilariously earnest. First up, “Lecția 12”—a masterpiece of monotone narration. Whoever recorded this must’ve had the energy of someone reading tax forms aloud, yet there’s something oddly soothing about it. Maybe it’s the way they pronounce words like “window” or “book,” making them sound exotic and mysterious despite being painfully ordinary. It’s like listening to an alien trying to explain Earth culture without fully understanding it themselves. Weirdly addictive.
Then there’s “Lectură Suplimentară,” which appears so many times on the tracklist that I started losing count. At first, I thought it might offer some juicy bonus content—a scandalous short story or maybe even a dramatic monologue about love and loss. Nope. Turns out it’s just… extra reading material. Riveting stuff. Still, I have to admit, after the third listen, I found myself humming along to random sentences. Who knew grammar could get stuck in your head like a bad pop song?
What makes this album truly special isn’t its groundbreaking artistry or production value—it’s the sheer audacity of putting something this unapologetically educational onto a format usually reserved for rock stars and divas. Sure, it’s not exactly party music, but imagine dropping the needle on this baby during a dinner gathering. Your friends will either leave early or start debating whether gerunds are overrated. Either way, you win.
In the end, Disc Pentru Manualul De Limba Engleză reminds us that sometimes, the most memorable things aren’t perfect—they’re just weird enough to stick around. So next time you’re struggling through an English lesson, remember: somewhere in Romania, back in 1973, someone decided to put it all on wax. And honestly? That’s kinda beautiful.
(Also, shoutout to whoever named the tracks. “Lecțiile 22 Și 23”? Bold move.)
