Emir Kusturica & The No Smoking Orchestra at the Zenith December 2009
Text by Brendan Seibel
The most extravagant ten-year old's birthday may include donkey rides and alcoholic clowns. Emir Kusturica & The No Smoking Orchestra celebrated a decade's revelry with their trademark blend of cartoon antics and rocked up Balkan-beat anthems, inviting thousands of fans along for the ride. For over three hours the group incited a riot of fun and dance in the smoked-filled Zenith.
Screams of delight which greeted six girls taking the stage slowly descended into confusion. Distorted bass, techno drumming and canned effects backed three part harmonies and hastily choreographed exertions. What initially elicited curious bemusement quickly became the monotonous soundtrack to indifference as the songs blended into one another and the unique vocal delivery lost its voice to the europop artifice. The opening group's departure was greeted with the unfortunate enthusiasm of relief.
When the stage lights once again filled the cavernous auditorium Nele Karajlic, showman singer extraordinaire, stood proudly in a blue spandex flying squirrel suit. Unperturbed by his own attire-- or that of the pilot holding a violin, the guitar wielding magician, or the returned warm-up singers lurking behind back-up mics-- Karajlic gazed out at the attended devotees. From that moment the entire auditorium was his.
By the second song he was running through the painful plastic seats ringing the expansive floor, pausing to waltz with passerby while followed by a dogged but determined camera-man. Swimming the sea of people back to the stage it was a matter of minutes before band members were pulling fans over the barricades. When the accordion and saxophone were perilously close to toppling the orchestra kicked into a rousing rendition of their hit Fuck You MTV, demanding audience participation. From ponytailed teens to pearl adorned pensioners, smiles of elation spread like wildfire.
Frantic musical workouts weren't challenging enough. Violinist Dejan Sparavalo disappeared into a bear costume for one number, and wigs made occasional appearances. Emir Kusturica, looking a little worn down, periodically vanished into the billowing smoke. The bassist picked up a tuba and chased Karajlic around the stage. A girl was recruited to play Juliet, then forced into the world's stiffest dance routine. When the band kicked into their marathon rendition of Wanted Man the crowd's wild abandon resembled a feeding frenzy. Sparavalo played behind his back, held the bow in his teeth and rammed the violin against it, then attacked a ten foot bow held by two women plucked from the audience.
Nothing could top it, and as a result the encore lacked zest and inspiration. Karajlic, looking as earnest as someone wearing a blue spandex flying squirrel suit can, led everyone in Happy Birthday before sincerely thanking a long list of people. A sweet gesture, but one which gently brought the crowd back to Earth, spilling out into the snowy Parc de la Villette more thoughtful than mirthful.
By the second song he was running through the painful plastic seats ringing the expansive floor, pausing to waltz with passerby while followed by a dogged but determined camera-man. Swimming the sea of people back to the stage it was a matter of minutes before band members were pulling fans over the barricades. When the accordion and saxophone were perilously close to toppling the orchestra kicked into a rousing rendition of their hit Fuck You MTV, demanding audience participation. From ponytailed teens to pearl adorned pensioners, smiles of elation spread like wildfire.
Frantic musical workouts weren't challenging enough. Violinist Dejan Sparavalo disappeared into a bear costume for one number, and wigs made occasional appearances. Emir Kusturica, looking a little worn down, periodically vanished into the billowing smoke. The bassist picked up a tuba and chased Karajlic around the stage. A girl was recruited to play Juliet, then forced into the world's stiffest dance routine. When the band kicked into their marathon rendition of Wanted Man the crowd's wild abandon resembled a feeding frenzy. Sparavalo played behind his back, held the bow in his teeth and rammed the violin against it, then attacked a ten foot bow held by two women plucked from the audience.
Nothing could top it, and as a result the encore lacked zest and inspiration. Karajlic, looking as earnest as someone wearing a blue spandex flying squirrel suit can, led everyone in Happy Birthday before sincerely thanking a long list of people. A sweet gesture, but one which gently brought the crowd back to Earth, spilling out into the snowy Parc de la Villette more thoughtful than mirthful.
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