They came all the way from St Pete’s to prove that Punk’s Not Dead (in Russia at least).
Nearing the end of a murky summer, I found myself, for the first time, in the much vaunted 16 Tons music bar. The season had offered slim pickings in terms of live music, so I had come to witness the re-appearance of an old act. This was an act that had been forged in the stagnation of the U.S.S.R. Would they still have something to say now?
Polished bar – Gritty band.
16 Tons functions as a mock-up of a British pub of the kind anathema to me. The exterior features a facade of olde-worlde curtained windows making the place resemble some kind of fun fair attraction. Upstairs, on the inside, the place is all gleaming dark mahogany, fake shelves of books and art nouveau style lamps. In fact, it is just the sort of place that was erupting all over Britain in the nineties. Indeed, 16 Tons has been in business since 1996 and has gained a reputation for both decent live music and beer.
Brigadni Podryad – their name gets translated as `Team Contract` but carries the sense of `mercenaries` -have been torchbearers of `77 style garage punk since their Soviet baiting school days and might seem to be out-of-place in such a venue. Then again the band can claim responsibility for some 15 studio albums which contain some cherished classics the appeal of which extends beyond the punk rock cognoscenti.
All the old dudes.
People say that 16 Tons provides great beers, which are brewed on site. However, after around two hundred punters had rolled up I had to forget about following up my passable glass of white ale. Those who spent the gig propping up the bar were not going to budge an inch!
The online blurb for the band made something of the fact that they can still speak to Youth. In fact few of the audience members looked below thirty. I did see a hipster type donned in a `No Gods – Nor Masters` t-shirt but there were more portly old gents with silver hair. Some people – and this is a real sign that a band has become established – had brought their kids.
A more unusual posse of exhibitionists pushed their way to the front of the throng. They represented Tula – a fan club from 190 odd kilometers south of Moscow. They waved a big flag to announce this fact.
No nonsense rockers.
We stood around as electronic disco music played expectant tunes. When the group arrived they launched straight into an aggressive number beneath red and orange lights and with the lead singer sporting a foot long Mohican. They seemed meaner than their jolly japish videos suggest – but they would soon loosen up.
Maxim Koldaev wielded the sticks in an AC/DC t-shirt, the bearded Evgeni Hulpin was on bass guitar, Anatoly Sktyarenko was the lead guitarist and Alexander Lukyanov fronted as the lead verbalist but also guitar.
Adapted Punk.
Brigadni Podryad specialise in Sex Pistol’s style fast and heavy rock: they are to `77 what Primal Scream are to `66. The assorted rabble got what they had come for – a chance to let rip with some `in yer face` but melodic choruses. The ethos was that of fans at an ice hockey match chanting and singing in unison.
Realising, however, that you cannot base an entire set around `1-2-3-crash-bang-crash` the band do allow other musical genres into the punk party. Much of what they play might be called Power Pop. Otherwise there can be found traces of rap and folk and even, in one song, a bit of funk.
Talented performers.
Lukyanov has a versatile voice which he sometimes wastes on doing good impressions of Pistol’s era John Lydon, but sounds far better as himself. He also supplements this with clear and confident melodies picked out on his guitar which serve to enrich the grinding clatter.
The band worked the audience with merry banter between songs and the guitarist gurned at them as he crouched over his instrument in a baseball cap and small shades.
Then, to the side of the stage, in a cordoned of V.I.P area the bottle blondes cavorted in a practised way to the beat. I took these to be the band members loyal wives.
Only rock and roll.
They strummed and hollered their way through an hour and a half worth of anthems and ballads without so much as stopping for a sip of water.
Their songs included the well-known `Gitari`, the goofy `Punk Rock Uroki` (`Punk rock Lesson`) and `St Pete’s Rock and Roll`. Then there was the edifying ditty entitled `Ivan Fuck off` which the crowd relished singing along to. We also got treated to a piece in praise of Krasnodar.
Unless there is something I am missing, Brigadni Podryad, these days at least, are not so much concerned with affairs of state. They tell of everyday impatience, family life, towns and…rock and roll. Rock and Roll in particular.
I am not unused to rock gig scrums. Nevertheless, as I stumbled in a daze back to the Metro, I felt like some sort of Woody Allen character who had been corralled into a jolly knees up with a bunch of Hell’s Angels.
If only I had been able to get to the bar more often, it could have been so much different!
