Back in the USSR. - book reviews

Back in the USSR The only book ever written on the Soviet rock scene, by the only guy in Russia who's a "professional rock critic." Artemy lives with his mom -- he has to -- but he is a cool dude, even if he has to publish in Komzomol 'zines. This book chronciles the evolution of the Russian counterculture during the cold-war years. Full of amazing detail -- like Soviet rockers cutting bootleg flexidiscs onto used chest X-rays. This is what a true "underground" looks and feels like -- weirdly reminiscent of the Harlem Renaissance, in many ways. A moving, very human, very street-level and very readable piece of fascinating social history.

The demand for pop and jazz recordings at the end of the fifties and beginning of the sixties was already enormous, while records and tape recorders were in catastrophically short supply. This led to the birth of a legendary phenomenon -- the memorable records on 'ribs.' I myself saw several archive specimens.

These were actual X-ray plates -- chest cavities, spinal cords, broken bones -- rounded at the edges with scissors, with a small hole in the centre and grooves that were barely visible on the surface. Such an extravagant choice of raw material for these 'flexidiscs' is easily explained: X-ray plates were the cheapest and most readily available source of necessdary plastic. People bought them by the hundreds from hospitals and clinics for kopeks [pennies], after which grooves were cut with the help of special machines (made, they say, from old phonographs by skilled conspiratorial hands).

The 'ribs' were marketed, naturally, under the table. The quality was awful, but the price was low -- a rouble [$ 2.00] or a rouble and a half. Often these records held surprises for the buyer. Let's say, a few seconds of American rock'n'roll, then a mocking voice in Russian asking: "So, thought you'd take a listen to the latest sounds, eh?", followed by a few choice epithets addressed to fans of stylish rhythms, then silence.

Next, both the philharmonias' and rock clubs are also switching to cost accounting and self-financing. This means the demise of the underground, since 'amateur' bands will now start signing record contracts and making money from their gigs. We've waited a long time for this, and it's a great day, but . . . previously, musicians exercised their creativity under the slogan 'We've Got Nothing To Lose', and thus didn't think much about altering their work to accommodate the censors or win official prestige. Now, whether they recognise it consciously or not, the new conditions push them toward compromise, and one can already see some effects. There are suddenly far more purely commercial rock bands, and noticeably fewer homemade cassettes.

This is just one of severc:l paradoxes of perestroika . . .

COPYRIGHT 1989 Point Foundation
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group