For about two years now I have loved Cz.K. Sebő’s music (and written about it here and elsewhere). But his new EP Kesze-kusza (Topsy-Turvy), especially the first song (“Kesze-kusza nyár,” or “Topsy-Turvy Summer”), has new depth for me in terms of musicianship alone. The guitar is meditative and rich—he way it lets the pauses ring, the way the notes come forward and retreat. This quality was there before, but it has reached a new level. The acoustic tone (he borrowed an exceptional guitar for this) is so beautiful that I can listen to the whole EP, again and again, for the sake of that sound. You can hear not only wood, strings, and air, but wordless thoughts. On the first song, the accompaniment by Soma Bradák (drums, percussion) and Benedek Szabó (bass) is so subtle that you might not even hear them enter. And then, when you listen to what they are doing, this adds to the wonder.
The lyrics are dreamy and evocative, the syllables so well timed that they sing themselves. This time the words are not hidden. I love the sometimes muffled singing on How could I show you the beauty of a life in vain? (and with that, the ambivalence over words), but this is pure and bare.
The melody may sound familiar; this song inspired Platon Karataev’s “Létra,” the magnificent theme song of the film Magasságok és mélységek (Heights and Depths).
The album is just under fifteen minutes long; it sustains its mood and beauty from start to finish. Three of the other songs on the EP are instrumental (solo guitar, with some effects); the third song, “Értelmet,” also has lyrics. I think the last song, “1012,” is another favorite along with the first. It surprises quietly; it explores and finds its way.
Fruzsina Balogh’s wonderful cover art evokes not only the songs but the experience of listening to the EP.
I don’t think this will be a final musical destination or anything close; his capsule boy album, now in progress, will take different directions. But it touches on infinity.
The EP (and especially the first song) inspired a poem yesterday. The poem isn’t “about” the EP or the song, but this music was a source. If anything, the poem is about holding back from an instant reaction to music, giving myself a chance to take it in. The fourth stanza alludes to the last paragraph on p. 67 of Zàn Coaskòrd’s book A Valóság, Hit és léleK rejtett csodája; the last stanza hints at Walt Whitman’s “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking.” So I’ll end here with the poem.
Listening
Diana Senechal
Today I tried something new
(Or old in a new way):
Saying nothing.
True, many stints of null
Had marked my days before,
But this nothing had
A pluck to it.
Tuning, muting
Its strings, gearing
Up for the miracle
(As anything that comes
From zero is miracle),
It befriended the oval.
Later I thought of how
The hush had given me time
To hear space sing,
To see the clouds converge,
Break up, glitter, and
Spatter the long sands,
Daring me into a brief
Collapse of words.
The words resurged,
But with the glint of return
From a private voyage:
“Later I looked up the name
Of that beach whose waves
Rough-sang the sky.”
Take Away the Takeaway 
Andrew James Chandler
/ January 30, 2023Shared on ‘Interlace’, my Facebook group, and my WordPress site.
Andrew James Chandler
/ January 30, 2023Thanks for sharing this. I’m enjoying the music.
Diana Senechal
/ January 30, 2023Thank you, and thank you for sharing it too!