As material constraints frustrate a number of young Russian musicians, thoughts turn to various kinds of ascent. Poems are dedicated to movement above the rooftops - and even into the stars.
The need for young musicians to hold down a couple of jobs can be trying. Related material complications lead, over time, to a celebration of immaterial values, such as wistfulness and a slacker ethos.
A number of publications this week display an interesting tension between grand romance and self-deprecation. By understating their heartfelt values, these artists stress a stubborn fidelity to a fading cause.
Hoping to develop their careers in a meaningful fashion, these bands consider writing uplifting or consoling love songs. Reality, however, unfolds in strange ways and fosters a less optimistic outlook.
The professional or profitable options available to today's musicians are small in number. And yet the amount of music moving online increases. The rationale behind that creativity is not logical.
As magazines and festivals seek to promote young musicians, they speak of great promise and flourishing local scenes. The performers themselves are less sure.
As musicians from Murmansk and Moscow online encounter rudeness, disdain, or indifference, an alternative is needed to actuality. A reconsideration of '70s psychedelia does the job very nicely.
Originating in Minsk, Saint Petersburg, Yekaterinburg, and Moscow, four new publications discuss the strange benefits of faltering and failure. In a mundane world, mistakes are a sign of uniqueness.
Four very different recordings - spun from a lo-fi lyricism, '80s synth-pop and abstract beats - all look askance at the future. Various kinds of reflection and retrospection seem increasingly appealing.
Young bands around Russia see little financial promise in their craft. Local reality does much to frustrate a material view of songwriting - yet an admission of those woes brings other issues to the fore.