The lute doesn’t shout. It speaks, breathes, confides. Edin Karamazov’s 2009 album takes this centuries-old instrument and proves it has more to say than any amplifier could capture.
The Artist
Edin Karamazov was born in Zenica, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and has become one of the world’s most sought-after lutenists. His approach combines historical awareness with emotional directness - he plays Renaissance music like it was written yesterday. Where some early music performers retreat behind scholarly correctness, Karamazov steps forward and speaks.
The Lute Is A Song arrived in 2009, mixing solo pieces with vocal collaborations that span from Dowland’s melancholy to contemporary work. The title captures the philosophy: the lute isn’t an accompaniment instrument or a museum curiosity. It sings.
The Sound
The lute predates the modern guitar: more courses (pairs of strings), gut timbre, quick decay. That fast fade is the magic - phrases must be placed and voiced, which is why good lute playing feels like speaking. Karamazov exploits this throughout, letting notes bloom and vanish, creating intimacy through transience.
The recording captures nail against string, resonance against wood, breath against silence. This isn’t polished classical studio sound - it’s a conversation in a small room.
Track by Track: The Essential Arc
“Dido’s Lament” (Purcell) - The ground bass tolls like a bell while the melody climbs and falls. Grief made architectural. One of the great demonstrations of what the lute can sustain emotionally.
Dowland songs - Poised melancholy, text-painting that matches syllables to sense. Karamazov’s phrasing breathes with the words, never rushing the sorrow.
“O Lord, Whose Mercies Numberless” (Handel) - Devotional glow, the voice floating above plucked ground. Sacred music that feels intimate rather than ecclesiastical.
“Paisaje Cubano con Rumba” (Leo Brouwer) - Modern rhythm, percussive color. Proof the lute can dance, can syncopate, can hold its own against the 20th century.
Sting collaboration - Close-miked storytelling where rock’s intimacy meets early music’s restraint. Unexpected and persuasive.
The Collaborations
This isn’t just solo bravura. Sting brings his singer-songwriter economy. Renée Fleming shapes Purcell with sustained breath. Andreas Scholl floats Handel with countertenor clarity. Each guest sits inside the lute’s resonance rather than on top of it - the instrument remains the center of gravity.
How to Listen
First pass: straight through, quiet room. Small speakers or headphones let you hear the attack, the string release, the room’s natural reverb.
Second pass: follow the text. On vocal tracks, listen for how the lute answers consonants, doubles melodic lines, creates space for breathing.
Third pass: contrast eras. Play Purcell → Brouwer → Dowland. Hear centuries in conversation, held together by one instrument’s voice.
For Deep Work and Study
The album works beautifully as focus music. The lute’s soft attack and quick decay create an intimate soundscape that fills space without demanding attention. The quietude supports concentration while the musical intelligence keeps the ear engaged. Let it loop during reading or writing.
Listen Now
Spotify
Also Available On
- Apple Music
- Amazon Music
- Deezer
- Tidal
- And most streaming platforms
The Verdict
Old wood, new fire. If you think early music is museum glass, this record opens a window. Karamazov proves that an instrument from the 16th century can still find things to say that no other voice can match. The lute doesn’t compete with volume - it wins with intimacy.
Strings plucked. Silence shaped. Some instruments never stop speaking.
