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Orange House (Moscow)
The Moscow outfit known as Orange House is arguably responsible for some of the jolliest PR online: "We'd like to invite you to hear some uplifting, positive, and honest songs. There will be loads of smiles, much happiness, plenty of surprises, and warm words of welcome, too! A good mood is guaranteed!" What, perhaps, is surprising is that these promises of jollity come from a very quiet ensemble. Moreover, they emerge without any alterior motive: "You can come and see us play absolutely free of charge! Just copy this text onto your Facebook page, click on 'like,' and tell your friends..." A little effort and a brief display of support guarantee a ticket. Amity gets things done.
Loads of smiles, much happiness, plenty of surprises...
Orange House are slowly establishing themselves as champions of a lyrical simplicity that's felt to be lacking in daily experience. "We play music that's unspoiled by radio airplay, crazy costs, or any brouhaha in the press." It's only at a distance from adult or avaricious behavior that sincerity can survive. "Boisterous, youthful texts interweave with a serious, grown-up lyricism."
A modest claim to earnest expression then becomes talk of a growing community. "Our orange home will grow to the skies; we're always happy to accept new residents."
Poster for a forthcoming Moscow concert
This social spirit first appeared in the summer of 2010, when the members of Orange House discovered one another in a local cafe. "One of them was constantly smiling, while the other just sat there, eating ice cream and
worrying about life's problems."
Those same problems, however, are not always discussed in the most serious terms. "We've been unable to update our site. For an entire month we've been hounded by amazing events." These - supposedly - included the involvement of aliens(!) and the appearance of odd lumps or bumps on the musicians' bodies... As soon as such worries are overcome, the blissful simplicity of a childish register returns: "Thanks to everybody who came to our concert! We all created a fantastic atmosphere... a touching kind of coziness!"
Our life is what we think of it
This same care and attention paid to adolescent verve is evident in a couple of other releases this week. The first of them comes from a musician known - tellingly - as OffBeatKID. A resident of the town of Penza, he is familiar in other venues as Max White (or Maxim Belousov) and currently announces on one of his pages that "Our life is what we think of it." The importance of a youthful, trusting worldview continues to grow. OffBeatKID, holding innocence high, has just announced a new album called "Reminiscences": there's much to be gained by looking back and keeping adult pragmatism at arm's length.
Maxim Belousov, aka OffBeatKID (Penza)
That goal in the brief past of OffBeatKID has been accomplished without even the chirpy boyish enthusiasm we see with Orange House. Belousov prefers instead to remain almost silent, leaving us with comments collected at Soundcloud, rather than any direct statements. The new release, for example, comes only with a one-sentence invitation for people to download the tracks - and that's followed by an apology for the author's bad English.
When we last looked at Belousov's work, it was in the context of some other, kindred beatmakers. Then, as now, they tended to borrow samples from films like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" (2004) or "Jeux d'Enfants" (2003), declaring that a belief in love at first sight may be admirably romantic, but it's also laughably "naive."
Similarly, we noted in the past how OffBeatKID and colleagues have used loops and lovingly reworked motifs from Soviet pop songs: they've come, for example, from Tariverdiev, Leshchenko, and Magomaev. To this we could add the preamble from a children's fairy tale used recently, and seemingly once broadcast on socialist radio. Far from major media, OffBeatKID and his fellow musical romantics may make fun of their skills, yet it takes little effort to reveal how much they really care. And how much they fear the loss of something very precious.
OffBeatKID: "Reminiscences" (2012)
OffBeatKID's chosen artwork this week draws upon the imagery of dandelions, ready to distribute their seed pods as widely as possible. From the past, even as it fades, comes the promise of future development. On that point we turn to the northern figure of Bruce and his own new album, "Rastvorimost'." Literally it means "solubility," but in Russian there's an added nuance, suggesting an ability to melt or vanish - for example from the power of emotion.
He tends to work with the St. Petersburg label, Morning Records. That project aims to transform fractured, broken, and often nostalgic beats into what participants call a "national style"(!). "We record, publish, and advance the kind of music we consider interesting for today's audience. We support a style that can help the growth of musical culture - both in Russia and Russian-speaking territories." That aesthetic spends much time looking backwards with fondness. Broader social connections can hopefully be spun from a kinder - and quieter - worldview. They emerge in romantic reverie begun long ago.
Childhood memories turn, over time, into grown-up love
The last time we considered Bruce's catalog, it was part of a collaboration with Ritmo, "Simple Things." Bruce himself took that opportunity to define his worldview: "Like it or not, life is made from countless tiny details. Childhood memories turn, over time, into grown-up love. Looking into a mirror, we try and see ourselves [and those processes] from within. What kind of light is that... over there, on the other side? [Despite those questions], I'm still the same tiny boy who once played with toy cars beneath a blanket. Even now, I'm the same youngster who'd stomp through puddles with such joy..."
Bruce (St. Petersburg): "Rastvorimost'" (2012)
These reminiscences become a treasured narrative that starts to look more appealing than present-day experience. Bruce continues: "When you're seven years old, you watch how your Dad shaves. You remember that - and other simple things - in order to preserve a sense of warmth in our world." Other recollections begin to snowball: "An old yellow umbrella in the cupboard. The teddy bear called Tyapa, with which my Dad used to wish me 'Good Night'..."
We remember simple things in order to preserve a sense of warmth in our world
These are the social bonds to which adult life does such damage. Simple things are spoiled by pointless, often heartless complexity. Such, put differently, is the humble, unassuming and perhaps "national" aesthetic Morning Records hope to cultivate. As time goes on, the retrospection simply increases - because actuality is incapable of matching pre-adult magic.
For this reason, Bruce has just advertised his new Moscow concerts using the logic of friendship, not finance. He has listed on a Vkontakte page some physical addresses where posters can be obtained - and then taken by kind, kindred spirits as far as possible around the city. In that way, boyish enthusiasm hopes to outdo grown-up goals.
In the current climate, it probably stands a very good chance.
Bruce (Aleksandr Brius, St. Petersburg)
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