AWOTT: "Mystical Noise-Rock"... to Save the World from Swine Flu

AWOTT are a Moscow outfit whose online activities were recently documented in suitably chaotic ways. At their MySpace page,  they decided to start a blog in April of this year. The first event worthy of reporting was the fact they'd been banned from a well-known Moscow venue, due to rumors they were in some way connected to "mystical or satanic sects." Additional stories suggested that they had used a recent gig to enact "magic rituals." How much of this is true, or to what degree it remains self-mythologizing is unclear.

In any case, it's the same combination of strangeness and shock tactics encapsulated in the band's full name, Asian Women on the Telephone. In amost all their published images, the ensemble hides its face behind masks, wooden scaffolding (see below), or deliberately unfocused photography.

Being banned from public performances is a good way to focus on studio work.  Within a month or so of the above "scandal" AWOTT had managed to produce a cassette LP. Their trademark sound - almost exclusively instrumental - is a form of stripped-down, maximally lo-fi grunge full of background hiss. Frequently played at a very slow tempo, the swamp-like growl of these tracks sometimes slides into pure feedback or industrial drone, since individual notes are so drawn out. This is a very confrontational style, revelling in its sulky contrariness, yet at times - especially when the tempo increases sufficiently to banish thoughts of large animals - a hedonistic amateurism comes to the fore.

If we can draw a parallel between the gloss of Moscow's mainstream pop today and the UK's similar experiences in the 1980s, then a comparison might be possible between AWOTT and Edinburgh's Fire Engines, who played in a similarly hopeless vein, punctuating scratchy guitar work with the occasional yelp or funky drum break. All of which makes our Moscow collective very important. Music scenes without this kind of lo-fi, shambolic corrective are simply not healthy.

Sometimes things need a shake-up.

The band's disorderly attitude was again underscored when the cassette album appeared. Together with an announcement that the project was finished, the group also admitted the results were so bad, they couldn't really hope to sell them: "Hours and hours of tapes have accumulated lately - as we've been recording on a 4-track recorder at almost all our practice sessions. As a result we decided to give it away and make a web-release from the most recent things we captured on tape. The quality is poor. The music is messy, too. It' s all for you.. so you can hate it. Hate all the world."

A career in politics looks unlikely. Especially because "canvass" has no clear connection to "canvas." Bags are not normally required. (Or, if they are, this would not be the best look for a public debate.)

Responding to an allegedly positive reaction from the public, AWOTT then followed the first LP with an "extended, remixed, and remastered version. It has all been remixed, but everything is still very low-fi. There's no overdubbing, analog mixing, or mastering, either." It's as if they took the tapes back, made them even worse and re-released them. The longer this band exists, the worse they'll get. It's an attitude worthy of loud celebration.

Bad music for a bad-hair day.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the initial claims of huge public demand were somewhat contradicted when AWOTT's policy of free downloads became an online request for $2.50 in order to get your hands on a cassette. The recording standards fell and the price went up.

In order to tempt Moscow's public into parting with their hard-earned cash, the band stressed not the LP's content, but its cover. "It's packaged in colored cardboard, available in 3 colors, and has DIY silk-print artwork, too." This new new focus on packaging, rather than the product, seemed justified when early comments surrounding the swanky re-release hinted that the audio would indeed be just as slapdash. To boot, AWOTT now maintained that the album was made entirely from music that had been "found" in a local basement.

It's packaged in colored cardboard, available in 3 colors, and has DIY silk-print artwork, too.

Together with some light and summery clothing

At this point it's clear that AWOTT will always be wantonly dismissive towards their own output - but they'll still take your $2.50. So what of the press reaction, especially since it remains entirely uncertain how many of these cassettes are being taken, bought, cherished, or dumped? One Russian publication took a closer look at these "slow, hypnotic songs" and had the following to say.

"This is psychedelic noise-rock that includes all manner of esoteric sounds, trance-like drumming, and the occasional repetition of some chant or other. It all serves to tempt the listener into an otherworldly realm of wild and untamed jungles. The LP involves a lot more unusual effects or strange rhythms that you'd not normally expect from a rock recording. We really like the names of the tracks, which hint at all kinds of dubious individuals or suspect practices. It all goes together well with the band's mysterious, even mystical image."

"By the way, some people say that if you listen to this cassette backwards five times, it'll cure you of swine flu!" At this point self-mythologizing slides swiftly into legally undesirable territory. Siberian cults and unqualified medicinal practices come to the fore. It all sounds like the wave of "extra-sense" activity that flooded the Russian TV and press markets right after the end of the Soviet Union. Stunned by the sudden appearance of a new and uncharitable society, many people turned to the oddest practices for security: horoscopes, palm readers, "Chinese" mystical traditions (invented around the corner), and so forth. The national media had no qualms about using this silliness to make a pretty penny, though: many of those same "spiritual seers" were afforded primetime slots for several years.

Yesterday Joe Biden got himself in trouble (again) by saying that the Russian economy is now unpredictable, if not "withering." If he's right, the swine-flu angle might be a way to get that $2.50. People are looking for spiritual assurance. Just say that the chants are by shamans, and it should sell very nicely.