Concerts

J.U.F.

Transglobal debauchery rears its exotic horns when Ukrainian gypsy Eugene Hütz takes a break from fronting Gogol Bordello to mix together the sounds of an underground discotheque. Balkan, Turkish, dancehall and flamenco collide with Bhangra, Rai, Klezmer and international kitchen-sink stylings to produce an altogether foreign strain of Fellini-approved combat...
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Transglobal debauchery rears its exotic horns when Ukrainian gypsy Eugene Hütz takes a break from fronting Gogol Bordello to mix together the sounds of an underground discotheque. Balkan, Turkish, dancehall and flamenco collide with Bhangra, Rai, Klezmer and international kitchen-sink stylings to produce an altogether foreign strain of Fellini-approved combat rock. And though electronic music-mucking has its limitations, Hütz — who hosts a weekly DJ night in a New York-based Bulgarian bar called Mehanata at the intersection of Broadway and Canal — lures listeners through a post-Soviet stumble of radical beats and mindless sex. With a nod to ’80s-era German industrial punkers D.A.F., the international collective (J.U.F. ironically stands for Jewish Ukrainian Freundschaft), blends mesmerizing moments that defy categorization, namely “When I Was a Spy,” “Super Rifle” and “Last Wish of the Bride.” This is all-inclusive musical democracy — that is, if America ever pretended to concern itself with the evolving tastes of an ever-growing immigrant populace. Then again, maybe that’s what the Latin Grammys were designed for.

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