If the sight of Traband members with their tubas, banjo and accordions leaves you with the impression that they're just another dry chanteuse or polka imitation band, prepare to get wet. Over the past decade, the Trabandsters have built a reputation for wielding their acoustic axes with an energy that easily matches any post-punk group, employing the rhythms of flapping sails and steamships riding over massive ocean swells.
Nautical metaphors aside, Traband's songs and theatrics have been known to transport audiences into imaginary worlds populated by wild, colorful characters. Asked why their lyrics are charged with so many circus performers and pirates, Traband founder Jarda Svoboda says, "These are the archetypes that help me to name my soul." He adds, "[Also] knights, men on chariots, black passengers, Robinson Crusoe, Vinnetou, Don Quixote, Ahasver, Elephant Man and Captain Ahab these are personifications of my feelings and my character."
Musically, the band draws deep from the heart of Central and East European well springs. But audiences at Traband concerts are as infected by the images as they are possessed by the music when they eagerly take to the dance floor, even if they can't understand the words. Part of this is because the band often dons the hats and jackets of the characters they sing about. But it's also, Svoboda says, due to an "energy radiating from our music that can make people dance anywhere, in this country as well as in France or in Japan. To understand music and its energy, you don't need education or knowledge of foreign languages, and you don't need to play any instrument. God's spirit blows wherever it wants."
Traband's seamless marriage of rock with myriad traditional idioms is linked to profound childhood memories. "I grew up in Kolín, a city where brass music has a strong tradition," explains Svoboda. "Among the strongest experiences of my childhood were funeral processions passing under our window. A carriage with the coffin dragged by black horses with their tufts of feathers imagine this funeral procession marching through the village with a brass band, five or six musicians with trumpets and a drum playing heartbreaking melodies. I was taken by sacred fear. Is it any wonder my 'no future' is connected with a brass band?"
Traband's current series of international concert and festival appearances is part of its swan song. Svoboda describes Traband's future "as a cemetery path ahead of us. We have recently celebrated 10 years of the band's existence with a huge concert in Prague's Akropolis, where we invited numerous musical guests. The entire concert was recorded by six video cameras. Sometime in the fall there should be our new CD and DVD. Thus consider the future of Traband closed."
However the remainder of the band's career plays out, the upcoming concert on Strelecky Island seems an appropriate send-off or yet another chapter in Traband's ongoing weirdness. "The island suits me perfectly," Svoboda says. "I think it's certainly the sort of place where something quite amazing might happen. The castaway might be saved, or the cannibals might strike."