Altin Gün love what they do. The Amsterdam-based psychedelic sextet have been thoughtfully mining the canon of Turkish folk for only a handful of years, but impressively, Aşk is already their fifth full-length album.
Jasper Verhulst formed Altin Gün in the Netherlands after touring Turkey with Jacco Gardner, who went on to mix their 2018 debut album On. An accomplished bassist who has also played with Eerie Wanda, Verhulst posted an ad on Facebook that caught the eyes of Turkish singer/keyboardists Merve Daşdemir and Erdinç Ecevit Yıldız. Along with countrymen drummer Daniel Smienk, percussionist Chris Bruining and guitarist Thijs Elzinga, they forged the vibrant throwback Anatolian-rock force known as Altin Gün (or "Golden Day" in Turkish).
2019's Gece followed a similar formula to their debut, but the the band altered course slightly in 2021 with the double whammy Yol and Âlem. Expanding their sonic horizons with tints of '80s disco, new-wave and electronic pop, Yol had shades of Azoto and Talking Heads while Âlem ventured further into Devo territory. Âlem was recorded virtually, its production sounding closer to Enigma or Ace of Base than fellow Turkish psychonauts Gaye Su Akyol or Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek, and the band weren't really feeling it themselves (read into it what you will, but as of this writing, the album isn't available on Spotify).
Aşk (which means "deeper feeling of love") sees Altin Gün return to the familiar '70s psychedelic realms visited on their earlier releases, as the band were allowed to record in their usual "live off the floor" style. It captures a band more comfortable roasting in the sweaty, late-night heat of their famously fiery concerts, and is imbued with that invigorating immediacy.
Simply compare their versions of "Badi Sabah Olmadan" from both albums to hear the difference. The take on Âlem sounds like koshmiche trance, but the full-band version that opens Aşk replaces the synth lead and bassline with sizzling slide guitar and electric saz. Like Roger McGuinn going "Eight Miles High," the added propulsion launches the track into the stratosphere, establishing the energy for the blistering album to come.
A couple of tracks have the same crisp boom-bap baroque pop charm that Gardner sprinkled over On, but most of the album leans more heavily on the shimmering, festive aura of Gece. Featuring Daniel Smienk's drumming at its most metal, "Rakiya Su Katamam" marries the cult-ish fuzz rock of Goat and the effervescent spy-funk absurdity of the Bombay Royale, while their version of "Çıt Çıt Çedene" cinematically updates the space-folk of Barış Manço.
"Kalk Gidelim" rolls along with a swaying rise-and-fall — kinda like Mungo Jerry did "In the Summertime" — but its bridge devolves into the kind of primal freakout that the Doors found in "The End." Later, "Güzelliğin On Para Etmez" coasts in like a space cowboy with plucked acoustic and slide guitar before emotive synths and a downtempo rhythm section twist it into the closing credits song from a '70s horror movie.
Closing the album on a high, "Doktor Civanım" puts together progressive space synths and funky disco guitar work in a Patrick Crowley-via-Boney M vein while Merve Daşdemir purrs and phones in her vocals (literally, a phone can be heard hanging up after the song ends). It's one of the most sonically and spiritually pleasing tracks in Altin Gün's ever-expanding catalogue.
Staying true to themselves while keeping the passion burning, Altin Gün don't reinvent the wheel so much as craft a sick new set of rims. They do their thing like nobody else, and they're always getting better at it — Aşk gives you everything you want, and you'll still want more.
(ATO Records)Jasper Verhulst formed Altin Gün in the Netherlands after touring Turkey with Jacco Gardner, who went on to mix their 2018 debut album On. An accomplished bassist who has also played with Eerie Wanda, Verhulst posted an ad on Facebook that caught the eyes of Turkish singer/keyboardists Merve Daşdemir and Erdinç Ecevit Yıldız. Along with countrymen drummer Daniel Smienk, percussionist Chris Bruining and guitarist Thijs Elzinga, they forged the vibrant throwback Anatolian-rock force known as Altin Gün (or "Golden Day" in Turkish).
2019's Gece followed a similar formula to their debut, but the the band altered course slightly in 2021 with the double whammy Yol and Âlem. Expanding their sonic horizons with tints of '80s disco, new-wave and electronic pop, Yol had shades of Azoto and Talking Heads while Âlem ventured further into Devo territory. Âlem was recorded virtually, its production sounding closer to Enigma or Ace of Base than fellow Turkish psychonauts Gaye Su Akyol or Derya Yıldırım & Grup Şimşek, and the band weren't really feeling it themselves (read into it what you will, but as of this writing, the album isn't available on Spotify).
Aşk (which means "deeper feeling of love") sees Altin Gün return to the familiar '70s psychedelic realms visited on their earlier releases, as the band were allowed to record in their usual "live off the floor" style. It captures a band more comfortable roasting in the sweaty, late-night heat of their famously fiery concerts, and is imbued with that invigorating immediacy.
Simply compare their versions of "Badi Sabah Olmadan" from both albums to hear the difference. The take on Âlem sounds like koshmiche trance, but the full-band version that opens Aşk replaces the synth lead and bassline with sizzling slide guitar and electric saz. Like Roger McGuinn going "Eight Miles High," the added propulsion launches the track into the stratosphere, establishing the energy for the blistering album to come.
A couple of tracks have the same crisp boom-bap baroque pop charm that Gardner sprinkled over On, but most of the album leans more heavily on the shimmering, festive aura of Gece. Featuring Daniel Smienk's drumming at its most metal, "Rakiya Su Katamam" marries the cult-ish fuzz rock of Goat and the effervescent spy-funk absurdity of the Bombay Royale, while their version of "Çıt Çıt Çedene" cinematically updates the space-folk of Barış Manço.
"Kalk Gidelim" rolls along with a swaying rise-and-fall — kinda like Mungo Jerry did "In the Summertime" — but its bridge devolves into the kind of primal freakout that the Doors found in "The End." Later, "Güzelliğin On Para Etmez" coasts in like a space cowboy with plucked acoustic and slide guitar before emotive synths and a downtempo rhythm section twist it into the closing credits song from a '70s horror movie.
Closing the album on a high, "Doktor Civanım" puts together progressive space synths and funky disco guitar work in a Patrick Crowley-via-Boney M vein while Merve Daşdemir purrs and phones in her vocals (literally, a phone can be heard hanging up after the song ends). It's one of the most sonically and spiritually pleasing tracks in Altin Gün's ever-expanding catalogue.
Staying true to themselves while keeping the passion burning, Altin Gün don't reinvent the wheel so much as craft a sick new set of rims. They do their thing like nobody else, and they're always getting better at it — Aşk gives you everything you want, and you'll still want more.
