Russian rock/pop – Generation P: Edward Crabtree's blog.

TOTAL ABANDON.

My first live encounter with Altpop/rockers TOTAL/CHERKUNOVA in Moscow’s relocated Mumy Troll Music Bar.

TOTAL/CHERKUNOVA, a pop rock sensation who sent up a flare at the beginning of this millennium, have been sprinkling Russia with soulful songs for two decades now, but are not yet ready for the anniversary gig routine.

At first known only as TOTAL (the addition to their moniker began last year), the band represent another brainchild of the ever-fertile composer and music manager Maxim Fedeev (who can also claim Linda and Yulia Sachayevo as amongst his discoveries).

Marina Cherkunova is his cousin and they both emerged from Kurgan, the `capital of the Trans – Urals` in Southern Russia where they each received a musical education. At the age of thirty Mariana became the lead singer of the new band.

TOTAL’s idiosyncratic trip-hop influenced alt pop-rock sound – and corresponding urban shaven haired image – found a ready audience and with it came a popular studio album and a string of high-profile festival appearances. Proud Russian magazine columnists likened them to the overseas Guano Apes and Skunk Anansie.

They came my way in around 2007 in the form of their second album TOTAL2: Moye Mir (`My World`). Injected with real feeling and with not a dud track on it, the band climbed high in my hierarchy of affections. (It helped too that that Cherkunova both has a role in and provides some of the music for, one of my favorite recent Russian films – Lost Island ( 2019) ). )

I had not, however, managed to catch them live before.

Altered abode.

There was not much notice about TOTAL CHERNUKOVA’s show on January 14^th: I only got wind of it at the last moment.

It was to be at the Mumy Troll music bar. But wait…didn’t that place close during the lockdown?

It turned out that the venue had teleported to the less salubrious but more populous environs of Novy Arbat.

The new Mumy Toll – as much as it strains to keep up the appearance of continuity (with all the nautical bric a brac) – is more commodious and feels somehow seedier and more `street`. The security is till as stiff as ever. No, I couldn’t take my rucksack in. The bar too remains as sluggish in its service. I only managed to get in two German beers all evening, being forever walled behind higher priority parties of cocktail sippers.

The establishment finds itself torn between the different demands of its demographics. There are those who come to in groups partake of the seafood at tables, caring not a whit what band may be playing. Then there are those to whom the place is a nightclub and are there to dance after the band has packed up. Then – oh, excuse us -there are the actual music fans who have, sort of, come to see a live band in a live music venue.

Band update.

The latter congregates bit by bit near the stage. Twenty to thirty somethings for the most part, they seem about two thirds female and a collision between glam girls and specky hipsters.

The first ripple of excitement comes when Anastasia Cherkunova – Mariana’s daughter and now director of the operation – comes on stage to deliver the water bottles and tape down the playlists.

The enter TOTOAL/CHERKUNOVA in their 2022 incarnation. This is a four piece with some new blood. The youthful Ilya Andrus supplies the guitar, Konstantin Mikyukov the DJ on the turntables, with the percussion being meted out by the chunky shade-wearing Stanislav Aksyonov .( They seem to manage to do without a bassist). In baggy jeans and floppy headgear, they exude a Nineties aesthetic.

Marina herself spots cropped peroxide-blonde hair in place of her more familiar bald pate (and looks better for it, if you ask me). Otherwise she combines knee length black dress with sturdy Gothic type boots.

Firebird.

Throughout their regulation two-hour set, this quartet guide us all their most loved tunes -`Hits the Eyes, Sparks, Karamasutra...with much upbeat banter between the songs from Marina. The fans, made somnolent by the January slush begin to thaw out and to jump and sway and to cheer and sing.

Even the attentions of security as they make sure we all keep are masks on at all times (compensating, no doubt, for a lack of QR code entry requirement) cannot dampen the conviviality.

What functions as the dynamo behind the whole experience is Maria Chernukova herself. I have not seen someone work so much at a performance since seeing Julia Volkova at the previous Mumy Troll some years ago. Embodying the joys and angst of life she puts in a writhing, impassioned full bodied, erotic performance like some sort of female Mick Jagger.

That she functions as an unacknowledged icon is evidenced by the excess of raised cameras all around me the whole time.

Urban folk.

The musicians augment the operatic delivery with some tongue-in-cheek `rockist` stadium gestures such as dragged out finales to songs with sections of drum and guitar solos.

TOTAL/CHERKUNOVA can boast one rather effective trick and it consists of clothing power pop ballads in a more urban, modern trip-hop stylistic.

They have a lot to live up to this night. I am seeing one of my most cherished acts for the first time and it is my first gig of the new year too.

They do not disappoint.

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.

Where are they now? : t.A.T.u divided by 2.

The two members of Russia’s most popular band have both played in Moscow recently -and I caught them both.

Fame.

A girl synth pop-rock duo formed in Moscow in the late Nineties, the Russian outfit t.A.T.u produced a string of international hits through a nine year period in the Noughties.

As much as Eurovision followers may recall who Dima Bilan is, or rock historians may have read something about Machina Vremya or Akvarium, or metal-heads could well have head banged to an anthem that Aria played, the Russian group with a worldwide profile is t.A.T.u. They were the `National treasures` who featured in the opening ceremony of the Russian Winter Olympics in Sochi in 2014.

T.A.T.u consist of the Muscovites Yulia Olegovna Volkova, now aged thirty three (and married with a child) and Katina Elena Sergeevna, who is one year older. Ivan Shaplov, who had a background in television, managed them.

Beginning with Ya slosha s’ooma (I’ve Lost My Mind) in 2000, they released a series of dance floor standards, pop ballads, cover versions and even mash ups with the like of Rammstein, the German heavy rock band. They strutted their stuff in the Eurovision song contest of 2003, and came third place.

Synth-pop with attitude.

t.A.T.u could be seen as a product of the ferment of Nineties Russia, which brought forth techno bands like Virus, but also song based dance acts like Mirage. They combined something of both of these styles but injected it with a dose of teenage defiance. In so doing, they made the Spice Girls of a few years earlier look tame in comparison. Moreover, their mock-lesbian pose, with corresponding graphic videos made them notorious.

In fact, the romantic thread which runs through their lyrics had been inspired by the Swedish film called Show Me Love (1998) by Lukas Moodyson. This is about a schoolgirl tryst in the small town of Omolo. Their trademark white shirt and short check skirt look, meanwhile, owed something to the erotic end of Japanese Manga comics.

Their sound, a distinctive mix of Euro-pop and techno, was helped along by the Durham born British pop visionary Trevor Horn, who produced many of their compositions.

t.A.T.u forever created controversy, and sometimes without meaning to. They appeared on stage brandishing Kalashnikovs, they were accused of sneering at the disabled with their song Lyudi Invalidi, mimed sexual acts live, supported gay rights, and wore t-shirts that featured ant-Iraq war slogans.

Their fans came from the same age group as the girls. Their appeal lay in the music and the image more than anything else. t.A.T.u seemed like ordinary Russian young women: a bit talented, attractive without being too glamorous, half Westernised and with ambitions for something more. Furthermore, by singing in both English and Russian they kept hold of their national identities. Their debut album 200 Po Vstrechnoi /200KM in the Wrong Lane (2001) was the first ever to win the platinum award in two languages. t.A.T.u encouraged kids in China and Turkey and elsewhere to try and learn some Russian.

The Venue: Mumiy Troll bar in Moscow.

Mumy Troll, an uneasy mix of cabaret bar and restaurant, can be found just below street level on Tverskaya Street in an area of plush hotels. The place has a dress code and the lead singer of the band after which it is named intends to set up an international chain of such places.

Julia Volkova live, March 2016.

Voices called out `Julia! Julia!’ as though she was a friend that they had passed in the street and she beamed as someone handed her a huge bouquet of pink roses. I had come expecting to see an ice queen; instead what I got was a good-time girl….

This, I had also thought, was not going to be my scene but I found myself happy to lay down the thousand rouble entrance fee at the door to see Julia Volkova play live. It would not do to miss a chance to witness the return of an iconic half of Russia’s best known pop sensation.

Since the t.A.Tu days Julia has fallen out with Lena, reconciled with her and then fallen out again, married and divorced and given birth twice, and received surgery for throat cancer. Furthermore, if you type her name into a search engine the word `homophobia` will pop up. She found herself in the middle of a row about gay men after letting slip, on a Ukrainian chat show, that she would not like her son to be a homosexual..

Donned in smart casual gear, there were more women than men and many could not have clear memories of the early noughties. They gathered round the oval bar in the centre of the club to order pricey German beers or even cocktails. Some of them were Friday night regulars who would pass the evening chomping on their pommes frites and chicken kievs gazing at it all as if it were on television.

The faithful, however, congregated around the platform and waited while a loop of soft rock from Mumiy Troll played on in the background. The lights then flickered as stage smoke appeared.

There was no other build up. Looking over at the stage door we stole a glimpse of Julia, hemmed in by bouncers with sweatshirts bearing the legend `No Stress`.

The drummer lumbered on stage first, and looked like one of the bouncers, and he was followed by a silken haired maestro of a violinist, a t-shirted guitarist and a man with strap-on keyboards.

Then at last Julia made her entrance: she was a black kitten in fishnets, with wild spiked hair and lobster coloured skin. She was accompanied by two backing singers in black and white uniforms like air stewardesses.

This odd ensemble set about a rendition of `Friend or Foe` and, as though they had been waiting for this very number, the gathering sang along as they held their smart-phones aloft hoping to capture Julia as she boxed the air to the peppy beat.

This set the trend. Julia’s more contemporary pieces, such as the Berlin cabaret like `Woman All the Way down` did not get an airing and instead we were treated to a bit of a t.A.Tu retrospective with such classics as `Nas Nye Dogonyat`, `Loves Me Not` and `Ya Soshla s Ooma`

There also ensued some sort of monologue spoken over an instrumental backing, the usual teary ballad and a token rap interlude. The chunky rap artist –whose contrast with the diminutive frame of Julia could not have been greater –only drew a polite but cool reception.

The hour and a half long set was filmed and what defined it was Julia’s ebullient demeanour. At one point she even addressed onlookers peering in from the windows overlooking Tverskaya Street.

Then the sound. Rocked up by pounding drums and reinforced by extra singers it became pure pop-rock-dance fun, and was quite apart from the plastic industrial clatter of some of t.A.T.u’s recordings.

I have been to more worthy gigs and to ones cooler and more up-to-the-minute. This one, with its feeling of being a friend’s reunion, is one of the few where I haven’t been waiting for it to end so that I could replenish my drink.

Lena Katina live, March 2018.

Some of the nondescript thirty-somethings who came stamping into this from the early March frost that night may have been regular clientele come to sample the lobster. Even so, the crowd struggled to reach three digit figures. They then had to sip their spectacular cocktails for about an hour before the five-piece band, including two backing singers, appeared on the stage. Then, at last, the spangled and henna haired form of Lena Katina sauntered on, to polite applause.

Her two and a half hour show was episodic. The first section consisted of a string of short and sweet pop ditties, with a female violinist making a guest appearance for one of the slower numbers. Most of these songs went in one of my ears and out of the other although `Never Forget` is a good solid ballad, worthy of t.A.T.u. For me, however, the stand out piece had to be `Silent Hills`, a stirring rumination on marital breakdown with some intelligent lyrics.

The band then fled the stage to allow two Townies to come on with a mixer desk for a drum `n` bass interlude. (At least there was no rapper!)

Then the predictable last section was one which doubled the number of spectators standing near the stage: it was t.A.T.u revival time, and this seemed what many of them had come to see. The band rattled through the classics which they were authorised to do – and these included `Pol chas` `Ya soshia S’uma` and the barnstorming `All About Us` all of which sounded pretty much like the t.A.T.u originals. The band then left without an encore but not before they had rolled down a screen and Lena sang a ballad about her t.A.Tu days accompanied by shots of Yulia and herself in New York in the Nineties.

If t.A.T.u could be considered to be a `rock-pop` act then Lena Katina, with her sound grasp of melody and `sincere` persona, represents the pop part of the equation. The more `rock and roll` one, however, is Julia Volkova whose act was a bit more transgressive in its sexyness and I rather preferred her for that.

The main image (of Julia Volkova) belongs to Mumiy Troll bar, Moscow.

The review of Julia Vokova first appeared in Moskvaer (see related links page).