The passage of time leads several new electronic recordings to wax lyrical about prior decades. Of particular interest are the 1980s, when a whole generation felt itself part of a fading social fabric.
As musicians move away from a distant hometown, the web promises greater connectivity. If, however, technical obstacles inhibit the romance of digital interaction, what options then remain?
These four new releases from Russia and Ukraine all lean towards a validation of smallness. There are various reasons not to be loud, arrogant, and self-assured. Local history is one of them.
A range of new electronic releases from Russia and Ukraine this week endorse a hushed and understated aesthetic. There's a shared conviction that greater insight lies within less noise. The quieter, the wiser.
St. Petersburg's Microcosmos Records has published a chillout compilation that serves to illustrate the meaning of downtempo modes in Northern Russia. Reverie travels very far from home indeed.
Two Russian electronic recordings speak of the search for "a new language" in the gaps between various genres. They're equated with a civic absence or lack. In Estonia, two kindred recordings take a more optimistic view.
New recordings from the Subwise label, together with a Stoned Boys EP, romanticize the surrender to something better than drudgery. That potential may be on a dancefloor, in drugs, or in charity.
Some new publications reflect a struggle with institutionalized hassles: the academy, journalistic dispproval, issues of copyright, and "grown-up" cynicism. An alternative is needed.
The dark, dense forests of Karelia lead the Petrozavodsk duo Love Cult to conjure an entire universe of alternative dimensions. This tendency to prejudice dreams over urban actuality is found elsewhere.
One of the more enduring assumptions or stereotypes regarding Slavic songwriting would be that of sadness, if not misery. When melancholy does indeed make an appearance, what form does it take?