If you’re in Toronto and looking for something to do this evening (Sept. 23, 9 p.m.), you should mosey over to Lula Lounge (1585 Dundas St. W.)  in unassuming Portu-dale to check out my Istanbul pals Baba Zula.

I was fortunate to hook up with them by chance, as I spent far too many of my Istanbul nights at a boho little wine bar called Misket that’s owned by the wife of one of the band members—even washing the dishes when called upon. But the moment I heard Baba Zula’s music I was knocked out, and they were my introduction to the surprisingly eclectic and vibrant Istanbul scene. Faith Akin used the band to bookend his well-recieved documentary on Istanbul’s musical milieu, Crossing the Bridge.

Describing Baba Zula’s sound is always a challenge as they don’t really conform fully to any of the adjectives thrown their way; listing them off you just end up sounding like an indecisive and not particularly persuasive rock critic. But here goes: psych-rock, Turkish traditional, livetronica, experimental, Anatolian reggae. They describe themselves as “Oriental dub” which is simple and clear enough.

Baba Zula live shows are something special, as a performative, theatrical dimension has always been a key part of how they envision their music. At Lula, they’ll be accompanied by a computer artist who improvises along with the band, her creations projected on screen behind them, and, yes, a Japanese belly dancer.  The Toronto gig will be special for another reason, as one of their most frequent collaborators, Brenna McCrimmon, lives here and will join them on stage. Brenna’s an interesting singer-musician in her own right; a student of Balkan and Turkish musics, she spent more than five years living in Istanbul, performing with Baba Zula and other local stalwarts like Roma clarinetist Selim Sesler.

I don’t know how indicative the video above really is. It’s a little weird: them playing-not-actually-playing for a promo performance on Turkish CNN, with the belly dancer in full effect. The camera work is hilarious, especially with all the rapid zoom ins & outs on the dancer’s gyrating hips. Like a cartoon character’s eyes gone all a-buggy.