Released just this past February, Prokletije II is, as the title hints, the follow-up to Prokletije I, which Croatian neo-folk-influenced atmospheric progressive metallers Nemeček issued late in 2021. It is the trio’s third album overall — they made their self-titled debut in 2018 — and the second installment of a purported trilogy with the final chapter to come. Maybe something of a between-moment, then. It has been my introduction to the Zagreb-based three-piece whose sound is distinguished by the use of Balkan tambura from Vedran Živković (also lead vocals) and the keys and synth of Leo Beslać (also backing vocals, some electric guitar they charmingly call “hidden”), and the driving rhythms of drummer Borna Maksan (also backing vocals, keys, tambura, other percussion), the latter of whom also recorded, mixed and mastered the album.

In what can be an ideal depending on the context and might have been in this case, my first exposure to Nemeček was seeing them onstage a month ago at Bear Stone Festival (review here), tucked away in the riverside woods outside of Slunj in their home country. Their aesthetic as portrayed on Prokletije II is abundantly dark, and the sun was blinding when they played — all three members of the band seated, though Beslać was prone to standing in more excited parts — and to be sure, that is some of what’s etched into my memory of the experience, but the cavernous echo on the vocals speaks to something older and darker in mood, and the places Prokletije II explores across its 10 component tracks, which features a titular series of four “Prokletije 2” interludes — calling them that is complicated by the fact that “Prokletije 2.2” (4:51) is longer than opener “Os Svijeta” (3:59), but fluidity of purpose suits the ambience of the record as well — that shift and broaden the already-significant scope of the outing in terms of style.

These inclusions vary: from “Prokletije 2.1” (1:13) with its drone and far-off percussion echoes contrasting the insistent tambura strum and snare snaps of “Os Svijeta”; to the aforementioned “Prokletije 2.2” building a more vivid synth landscape diverging from the motorik throb of “Na Kraju Svega (Beograd)” (5:20) just prior, somewhat dystopian sci-fi, but conjuring images in muted colors just the same; to the backward swirls and semi-industrial noise experimentation of “Prokletije 2.3” (1:41) giving a sense of severity without taking away from the standout prog keyboard melody and fuzzier tone as well as a standout vocal in the preceding “Mirila” (5:35) that feels like a grounding moment after the mostly-instrumental sprawl of “Olovni” (9:32) proves so patient and immersive on the way to its more intense, still-building crescendo; to the penultimate “Prokletije 2.4” (2:01) ringing a purposefully-synthesized-sounding bell answered by ghostly swells of notes and drone, ceremonial but vague and admirably not playing to cultism but flowing gracefully into the concluding “Mirëdita” (6:14), which is soon to pick up with strum and snare march that answers back to “Os Svijeta” but demonstrates the journey Nemeček have undertaken to get from one end of the album to another. And if that far-too-long sentence you (maybe) just read tells you anything, it should be that the shifts undertaken throughout Prokletije II are executed with a grace that speaks to the band’s foundations in prog as well as Eastern European folk music. They are as accessible and easy to follow as they are complex in how the material is built; if you can put the record on and keep a fairly open mind, the band are more than ready to bring you along for the already noted front-to-back voyage, whether you’re able to understand the Croatian-language lyrics or not.

For what it’s worth, I’m not. And I’m expert neither in the history of Balkan folk, nor prog rock, post-punk, noise, neofolk or anything else that’s arguably at work here, but there’s a resonance in Prokletije II that goes beyond even the finer details of the audio — that guitar that might be hidden in the mountainside rush of “Kuvet” (5:22) or the distorted roll that’s evoked by “Mirila,” the chime sounds tucked away at the end of “Mirëdita,” the abiding nuance of melody throughout, and so on — to the greater affect of the whole. As a listening experience, i.e. ‘hearing the thing,’ one might be as prone to calling it lush as minimalist, but the more complicated truth is that the songs — both those built around the “Prokletije” theme and the others — can be both, and the spaces created and conjured are dynamic in range as well as volume. “Os Svijeta” builds gently into its procession, and is able to call to mind both Eastern European black metal and synthy prog, where “Na Kraju Svega (Beograd)” comes across initially like a translation of punk rock methodologies into something else entirely, but in addition to being cohesive in production and gorgeously mixed, the sense of purpose extends in each direction a given track might or might not go.

As might be expected after three years and with the change from an external to an in-house producer, Prokletije II outshines its predecessor in terms of growth on Nemeček‘s part, while keeping in league stylistically enough to be a believable second chapter of the same series. I do now know the band’s timing on the third installment of the stated trilogy, but if it’s a few years again, it will be interesting to hear how they continue to develop and how that carries into that now-hypothetical work. To wit, Prokletije I had distinct trades between longer-form songs and its own “Prokletije 1.1,” “Prokletije 1.2,” etc., though there was a malleability there as well that has been pushed to a new degree across Prokletije II along with the balance between immediacy and breadth, and if you told me that having Maksan double as engineer allowed the band to dig further into the mixing process, the minutiae of what a given moment is conveying and how, there are any number of instances supporting the claim to be heard in the songs themselves.

I don’t expect it to be for everyone, but the impression left from seeing Nemeček has been bouncing around in my head for a month now, and I’m glad to have been able to take on hearing Prokletije II in the aftermath of that. Sometimes you learn a thing and it stays with you.

It’s Bandcamp up top, which is my general preference, but if you’d rather stream it some other way, they’ve got a whole whatnot set up here: https://album.link/PROKLETIJEII

Thanks for reading. As always, I hope you enjoy.

—

This has been my last full week in Hungary. After hitting the Brant Bjork show Monday night, tonight I’ll go see Stoned Jesus and Dopelord (plus two other bands) at a place called Dürer Kert. Look for a review of that show Monday. I’ve also got a video premiere/album announce slated for Monday, and a premiere/announce slated for Wednesday, but in general don’t expect too much in terms of posts. Tomorrow (Saturday) I’m going to visit a farm where some crew or other from the Psychedelic Source Records collective are going to record. Might have a piece up on that for Tuesday.

Sunday we’re driving up to Miskolc, where the small village my family emigrated from is located, and Monday we’re going to the Balaton, which is a big lake where Hungary does its summering. Tuesday morning I have my final in-country language lesson in the morning, and then I think most of the day will be packing, maybe with some final sightseeing in there if there’s time — we have a we’ve-been-here-for-a-month’s worth of shit to shove into our luggage, plus the Legos and various other things we’ve bought while here; yes I have one at home, but I’m a little sad at the thought of leaving the food processor, not the least after making American-style chicken salad in it last night for dinner — and then we head to the airport overnight Tuesday (3:30AM departure, I believe), fly out of Budapest, back through Schiphol in the Netherlands, then on to JFK to sit in however much traffic back to New Jersey. The same fraught process that brought us to Zagreb the better part of five weeks ago, in reverse.

Some crucial learning has happened this summer, mostly I think for The Patient Mrs. and I about who The Pecan is as her own person and what the shape of our family looks like. The first two weeks of this trip were really, really hard. The Southwest trip we did before we came here — also really, really hard. In ways that feel new or at least manifest aspects of The Pecan’s personality in new ways. After we get home, there’s only about three weeks until school starts. I’m curious at this point to see how that goes and how or if we’re called in for meetings as she makes the transition into first grade. Sadly, I don’t think they do astrophysics yet, but being able to multiply numbers in her six-year-old head should help somewhat, at least until she’s asked to “show her work.”

The point is there’s a lot coming up. As usual, I thank you for reading and being a part of this weird project that The Obelisk has become in my life. Dealing with the out-of-my-comfort-zone aspects of travel to new places over the last month-plus, it’s been a bedrock for me in ways I can hardly express. It probably wouldn’t be here if no one but me ever read it, so I owe you for that.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. It’s hot out there. Don’t forget to hydrate.

FRM.

The Obelisk Collective on Facebook

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch