Respected vintage soft rockers were just a little too tranquil for my satisfaction.
Whenever I set foot in the spick and span basement lounge that is Mumy Troll Music Bar, the question of just what I am doing there comes up.
In the male toilets there you come across the legend, painted on the wall -`Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll`. This has always struck me as ironic as, of all the venues I know in Moscow, this must be the least `rock and roll` of all of them, before we even mention the other two options on that list!
I was once asked by a polite doorman there to remove my leather jacket before entering. This was no bikers jacket, just an ordinary black leather affair. As it contained my money,I had to spend the evening with it slung over my arm.
This select establishment exists for the cocktail sipping and sea food chomping promising-career-and-smug-married set who like to be cosseted by upmarket pop tones.
So what am I doing here? Well,they do put on some significant acts. Julia Volkova, who I saw there some years ago laid one of the most enjoyable live events I have yet attended and Gorod 312, Russia’s finest pop act are due to play there soon.
Mock Halloween.
The dying embers of October had become lukewarm and moist and there was much sniffling all round and general listlessness among the punters.
The bar was pushing a Halloween pitch based around a tacky but pleasurable medical theme. The bar women were demonic nurses and the bar men had slashes and stitches across their faces. Above the bar blood transfusion bags hung and a skeleton sat in the corner on a wheelchair.
The honey trap gals touting American Whiskey were also out in force. All peroxide hair and suspenders, with shot glasses on the ready hanging on their belts, they made a beeline for me, knowing a lonely guy when they saw one. But I was waiting for Megapolis.
The clientelle, who seemed a notch more salubrious than usual this evening, seemed nonchalant with little evidence of excitement, however.
Success Story.
Megapolis have been in business for 33 years, headed by Oleg Nesterov, and with 10 albums to their credit they are a Soviet born rock band who have been granted a `charmed life` according to All Music. Com. Thus they appeared in a key film of the 1990s – (Nash Chelovek V Samreno with Tatyana Skerodhadova ) and sang a song for Boris Yeltsin. Some of their pieces have become a part of Russian folk culture such as the KarlMarxSchdat – with its gentle mockery of a communist utopia.
The band also enjoy a unique German following and visit that country often and translate some of their songs into the German tongue.
A recent pet project of Nesterov’s -and one which this gig was showcasing – constitutes The Life of Planets. This double album attempts to provide soundtracks to those Soviet films that never got screened or completed when The Thaw came to an abrupt end. This bright scheme is even receiving some coverage in the West.
Scenes From Provincial Life.
The four piece strolled onto the stage at about half nine. Nesterov sported an acoustic guitar and – sorry if I’ve got this wrong – I think the lead guitarist was Dmitri Chervyakov and the bassist was Mikhail Gabolayev. Dressed in dark clothing and players more than performers they lacked any visual impact.
Nesterov, however, does radiate benevolence like some sort of lean, tanned and well-preserved amiable wizard.
They also had a back projections and these depicted shots of Sixties era town life in Russia – forest picnics and such like.
Guitar orchestra.
The well-rehearsed accompanying music was folk-soft rock complete with that husky and comatose vocal delivery style which is the hallmark of Russian songs of this genre.
Still, some real power emerged from this small string and drum outfit, particularly in the crescendos. Chervyakov (if it was he) had a good line in ethereal slide guitar and I found myself paying attention to the actual music rather than just abandoning my body to the rhythmic flow as is my usual wont.
At one point Nesterov took to conducting as though for an orchetra – as if to underscore the unique selling point of this band, which is its musical virtuosity. Megapolis are Serious About Pop and devoted craftsmen within the genre. In this regard they remind me a tad of the British band XTC.
In fact the very name Megapolis, with its futuristic high-rise overtones, seems like a strange mismatch. Megapolis may be modern and urbane – but they are not moderne and not urban!
Despite all of Nesterov’s intimate chats between songs the audience response remained lukewarm, or perhaps they were just chilling. For myself, I was finding the mellowness of it all a bit cloying and the implied nostalgia for Soviet times a bit suspect. Gimme some sex, drugs and rock and roll!
I have no idea if the rest of the audience agreed. They were giving nothing away.
