Mumy Troll music bar – Generation P: Edward Crabtree's blog.

TRAFFIC JAMS? WE KNOW A SONG ABOUT THAT, DON’T WE? GOROD 312 live at the Mumy Troll music bar, December 7th.

Kyrgyztan’s local heroes excite loyal fans in a routine concert.

Silhouetted against the red and purple floodlights Masha Illeeva, the modelesque lead guitarist of GOROD 312 sways and sings along to the robust pop-rock classics of her band, a picture of joyful absorption,infecting the audience with the same fleeting delirium….

Despite being more of a rocker than popper, I have followed GOROD 312 for over a decade in whilst in Russia. This merry band of talented Kyrgyz, with their distinctive act, represent something vital that has come out of the noughties.
GOROD 312 hail from Bishek, the picturesque capital of Kyrgyzstan – their very name references the dialling code of that city. Now based in Moscow they have, over the last 18 years conjured up five well received albums, featured on many films and TV soundtracks and become a household name throughout the C.I.S countries.

The band comprises of the 49-year-old songstress Sveltlana Nazarenko (Aya), Dmitir Pritula (Dima) the keyboardist and backing vocalist with the bassist Leonid Pritula. The main string merchant is Maria Illeeva (who, if you want the gossip, is married to Dima). Of late some newcomers have joined the retinue – such as Aleksander Il’Chuck (Alex).

They sing of traffic jams, the changing of the seasons, urban life and heartache and, brimming with exuberant chutzpah, offer a live act in which they seem to take genuine relish. With sheer musical aplomb they fuse rock, blues and dance music and deal very much is songs, which are led by Aya. I tend to view the gropu as an Eastern Blondie.
Conventional but rousing.
Despite the 3,000 rouble tickets – the most I have paid for a gig in Moscow -Mumy troll Music Bar soon filled up with unpretentious punters, most in their thirties.
The first sign of the band’s imminent arrival was the flashing up of a chic logo on the screen behind the stage. (The rest of the visual accompaniment turned out to be a disappointment, consisting of a rehash of their old music videos).

With an extra lead guitar they functioned as a six piece with a fuller and more detailed sound. Otherwise they look unaltered by time (they might have been the same people I saw live five or so years back) and deliver compositions which match the quality of their live recordings.

Festooned in silver necklaces, Aya is an engaging frontwoman. Sometimes she would appear to be singing to individual members of the audience. She also encouraged us to sing along – now the women, now the men. In fact, in this respect the band were poles apart from Delfin, who I saw this time last year and found to be somewhat remote. (The other musicians in the band did seem to be a little less involved though).

Later there would be a drum solo, another cosy routine and one which I quite enjoyed this time. Meanwhile, they strutted their stuff though a lot of cherished standards – Fonari, Pomaginye, Gipnos (a rare duet),the anthemic Devochka, Katorya Hotelya Schastya and of course that karaoke standard Ostanus. They showcased a few new numbers including a lachrymose one about friendship which had the people around me hugging each other. What was lacking was the ever catchy Nevidimka (Invisible Woman) as well as some of their edgier alt rock pieces.

It proved an average set but one which after an hour and a half of it had us wanting more. Their main trick – which constitutes the very stuff of effective pop – is to make cheeriness seem cool. They acknowledge some reality in their upbeat ditties, but as they play you want to step into their world.

Nevidimka (Invisible Woman)by Gorod 312.

Lullabies for Adults: MEGAPOLIS live at the Mumy Troll music bar in Moscow, October 26th.

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.

NICE GUYS FINISH LATE: Russian rock band KREMATORI live.

Moscow Dad rocker’s can still lead the dance.

Photography by Iain Rodgers.

You insidious sister of Pluto/Open mouth, icon eyes/Your ears are bliss/I know where to buy noodles for them/To touch your heart….Hey, beauty, who will pay for all this?/Life is short and can’t be stretched/ for the deaf there’s no forgiveness/Love is just a supermarket` (Translated from `Supermarket` by Krematori.)

I cannot claim to be a huge fan of Krematori but I do own one of their albums – Lyudi Nevidimski (`Invisible People`). This, within its Rocky Horror Show packaging, features a few pleasant old school rock-and-roll type numbers which put me in mind of a Craft beer bar live event, so much so that I can almost smell the whiff of yeast and wood shavings in the tracks.

Which is all very lovely, but in Russia this band signify much more than just a competent jive act.

Venerable.

Krematori’s manifestation in their home turf of Moscow only warranted a brief mention on a flyer on the window of the Mumy Troll music bar – but their many devotees would have known all about it well in advance.

Headed by Armen Grigoryan, 59, of Armenian descent, this doughty cult band has seen thirty-six years of business. Throughout the trials and tribulations of the Andropov, Gorbachev and Yeltsin eras this five piece has been a good-tempered eye of the storm. They have knocked out some fifteen studio albums each with a trademark philosophical take on life. In a way they remind me of the British band Hawkwind, even though their sound is more redolent of someone like Lindisfarne.

So I felt that I would be failing this blog not to skip over to the venue, just a stone’s throw from Red Square, on the 9th March.

Mixed crowd.

The three hundred or so punters that filed into that basement bar were the types to have proper jobs, perhaps with babysitters looking after their first borns at home. Their sap was rising with the false promise of spring in the air of this holiday weekend. The faithful gathered at the stage to await the arrival while others sat down to chomp on lobster while the wouldn’t-say-no waitresses scraped the foam off the tops of their beer glasses.

Hearing us speak English, an earnest schoolmistressy type accosted us at the bar. We were in for a treat, she informed us. She herself lived in Holland now, but made a point of catching this band live whenever she returned to Moscow. She had with her a potted tulip to deliver to the stars. However she advised us that the complex Russian lyrics formed the main point of it all.

Barn dance.

At quarter to nine the band at last showed their faces. A mock self-glorifying video backdrop announced each member as they came onto the stage.

Grigoryan hides behind raybans and a wide-brimmed hat, which does give him a certain presence whereas Nikolai Korshunov, the extroverted bassist is an identikit metal band member with his goatee beard, bald head and chunky build.Vladimir Kulikov, the lead guitarist, looks like a man who would buy you another pint if you spilled it.

Their sound – folk and blues tinged rock and roll, but enlivened with unexpected mid-sections, chugged along in an upbeat fashion.

Krematori’s principal innovation – and U.S.P – is the violin work of Maxim Guselchikov which lends a seductive hoe down feel to the proceedings.

They waded through an array of themes around consumerism, spirituality, men and women, and aliens. One of their songs was called `Bezoomni Mooshina` (`Mad Man`) and another `Hare Krishna` but the one that I recognised – as well as could most relate to – was `Supermarket` – some of the lyrics of which I have attempted to render in English above (with much help from my Russian teacher).

So we gulped down our pricey German ales and the band played on and the men, as if some primal instinct had been unearthed, did the twist with their ladies, and the band played on, and we began to look at our watches as it neared eleven and the band played on….

A cheeky townie girl, en route to a night club, peered in from a window looking out on the street above us. With satirical intent she began to twitch to the country rhythm but then she danced on and on like a mannequin whose strings were being jerked, and the band played on….

Katmandu by Krematori

Their Official site (Russian).