Parno Graszt

I was extremely perturbed to discover a few days ago that Lily Allen is, in point of fact, very popular. Having such a blow to my credibility is something I can not stand for. So I delved in to the deepest, most unreachable realms of my iTunes library, where my eyes greeted a welcome sight: Parno Graszt. My mom bought their first CD on a trip to Hungary a few years back, and for it, I salute her. The story behind this particular group is almost as good as their music. In northeast Hungary, near the Tisza river, you'll find Paszab, a legitimate Gypsy village. What I particularly love about the band is that their numbers aren't necessarily written in stone. Besides the seven core members, who I assume, write the music; the entire village contributes in one way or another. They often tour with another dozen or so dancers who just dance their spritely dances. The other thing I love is that they're real gypsies. They still live in the same village they did when they started out five or six years ago, a place where little barefoot children run around and everyone meets in the town square to jam. I'm probably profiling, but I'll prefer my distorted worldview to the real thing nine times out of ten.

On to the music. Good luck finding a US-based distributor. I can only find one $40 CD on Amazon, so I'd advise seeking alternate importers. Anyway, I think a great introduction to their particular brand of musical merry-making is this song: as far as I can tell, a self-titled track. For those seeking some more songs, I'm forced to link to their MySpace, as loath as I may be (if you're clever, you can download those songs. I'll leave this as an exercise to the reader).

EDIT: I'm now seriously angry, as I just found out that last year these guys performed live in a town that is about a 20-minute walk from where I'm sitting right now. I can only imagine how awesome these guys must be live.