|
Today sees the release of a four-track, thirty-minute EP from Lo Seen, entitled "Light My Star." It comes from a musician who works at a deliberate distance from the unseemly nature of media practice. The reasons for his standoffishness are locally significant. They're both a result of - and reaction to - his hometown.
The first thing noticed by newcomers to the music of Lo Seen is that he remains "stubbornly anonymous" - as he puts it. In other words, his real name remains extremely well hidden. What can, however, be said with confidence is that Lo Seen makes a living from writing music for advertisements and commercial exhibitions; that workplace enterprise has, in fact, developed rather quickly since we first mentioned his efforts, because not long after FFM discovered him, he performed with marked success at Stereoleto 2009.
After that relative highpoint he would ascend further still to become "one of the staple artists on the St. Petersburg club scene." Running contrary to most of the city's DJs, he would begin, somewhat tentatively, to include his own vocals in various net-releases. His voice to this day maintains a certain dry or distanced quality that dovetails neatly with the chilly stereotypes that Lo Seen takes from the classical dimensions of his hometown.
The raised eyebrow speaks to an aesthetic of understatement.
"This is the music of a [special] city: its streets, architecture, weather, and people." Lo Seen then drops into the third person singular, and the "distancing" technique we mention is extended further still: "It's here [in this urban environment] that the author of these tracks finds the strength and inspiration needed for new compositions."
This is the music of a [special] city: its streets, architecture, weather, and people
At this point, we fall to pronounced lyricism: "Lo Seen uses a swallow as the main symbol for his work - the embodiment of both hope and freedom. That's why you'll see an image of the bird on all the musician's instruments." Christian names are insistently avoided in any similar discussions of "the musician." Instead of the standard, almost ecstatic tone one might expect from PR materials, we're left with a rather aloof romance, a combination of chocolate-box symbolism and the bone-chilling climate of the world's most northerly city.
For all the cultural stereotypes associated with St Petersburg and a general distaste for the shrillness of shoptalk, why else might our artist maintain such a "chilly" profile? It's interesting to note that on his page at Vkontakte, he has uploaded a long text documenting the drug addiction(s) of John Frusciante, erstwhile Chili Peppers guitarist. Here the brash appeal of the music industry takes another knock.
That text was published in the US around 1996 and describes Frusciante's descent into heroin use - and abuse. No longer able to control himself, Frusciante had by this time lost his teeth and - seemingly - all hope of recovery. The article gained renown in journalistic circles as a frighteningly honest portrait of today's rock musician - i.e., of a dubious pretender to the role of hero.
"In the end, Frusciante has become just another gifted musician who plunges a needle into his arm every few hour - between playing and painting, between reading and writing, between preparing a new record and finding a new home, between living and dying. These days, record label rosters are once again stockpiled with men and women just like Frusciante, though they have publicists to hide their artists' habits..."
Those publicists and their social norms are another reason for Lo Seen to stay in the shadows - where things are safer and more seemly.
I don't care whether I live or die
The Chili Peppers' text, in fact, ends with some confident, even lofty words from Mr. Frusciante, but in the context of the article - full of lurid medical detail - his tone is actually rather tragic. "Most of Frusciante's close friends have abandoned him, sometimes after trying to intervene and save his life; they're too tired of watching him decay in front of them, too sick of watching him unapologetically kill himself. He knows they don't like being around him, but he doesn't give a f**k. 'They're afraid of death, but I'm not,' he says. 'I don't care whether I live or die.'"
Hardly the makings of a long-term career.
Lo Seen's avoidance of this drama - and the swift demise of its representatives - is understandable. What looks like aloofness may in fact be a sense of self-preservation.
May 2011 will also bring us new material from Ukraine's Subself Records. More specifically, Subself will be publishing some tracks by Australian minimalist and techno exponent, Oblongmonster. These recordings come with remixes by Zaporozh'e artist Max Belous and - far away in the Russian north - a duo known as AN:TI. In both cases these musicians, very much like Lo Seen, are tied aesthetically and philosophically to their hometowns. And, once again like that St Petersburg performer, the Subself figures are producing music that responds to those industrial settings - in a contrary fashion. They're even working together on some remixed material of one another.
In other words, the dancefloor hedonism that we find in Zaporozh'e and Murmansk is a bold, bright response to some rather grey streets.
Zaporozhe is a powerhouse of Ukrainian industry - and has been for a very long time. During WWII, for example, the German army was desperate to seize the region's factories. As a result, surrounding towns were attacked with awful force - and would then remain under enemy occupation for more than two years. To this day, the smokestacks and pylons are visible everywhere. Max Belous - a man of few words - cracks some jokes along these lines on the pages of his photo-blog. The image shown below is tagged with a single word - a neologism made from the words "Zaporozh'e" and "Detroit." Beyond the power lines, slush, and prefab buildings we can still see the factory smoke today. It could be the skyline of either city.
Both are drab towns that produce music: the worse local reality becomes, the more insistent an audible form of escapism needs to be.
And then, as mentioned, the Oblongmonster release also involves the AN:TI duo from Murmansk - the largest city in the Arctic Circle. Again, the wartime experience of prior decades underscored the industrial value of this region. Born as a railway town just before WWI, Murmansk by the 1940s had already proven itself a vital entry point into the USSR for wartime supplies. Only major defense systems and the merciless Russian winter stopped German forces claiming this region, too.
In recent years, the polar address of Murmansk and a related climate have made it unappealing for younger people; many have moved away. The population continues to shrinks at a depressingly constant rate, but two individuals remain homebound: known to family members as Aleksandr (Moskovchenko) and Iaroslav (Shalev), the folks behind AN:TI adopt a contrary attitude towards their severe surroundings. That contrariness takes the audible, upbeat forms of tech- or deep house and synth-pop.
In a semi-serious register, these same young men have decorated their MySpace profile with a shared personal statement. It speaks both to Murmansk's location and the related difficulties of finding a girlfriend. How do these young men advertise themselves to imaginary people in a shrinking city?
Like Lo Seen, they're careful to avoid anything resembling the strident tones of self-promotion. Here instead we learn that they're both(!) six feet tall, share the fittingly maritime star sign of Pisces, graduated from high school, and yet - despite their handsome stature - earn less than $30,000.
Hopeful to a fault, they'd like to meet some "good, talented people." With that stated desire, they implicitly see little goodness or talent on the streets of Murmansk. In the closing seconds of a mock profile, the tone becomes serious. And so AN:TI continues to fashion the sounds of warmer climes - or at least a busy dancefloor, full of people with no intention of leaving.
In the meanwhile, Max Belous casts an eye across the horizon. He, Lo Seen, and AN:TI all produce music that's designed as a response to various negative features of the local environment. No matter how cold, smokey, or shrill that same context becomes, though, none of these men reacts with hyperbole or other kinds of excess. It's almost as if the classical restraint of St Petersburg and the industrial zeal of Zaporzh'e or Murmansk have taught their residents how to respond to local failings: with understated self-expression and very hard work.
Comments
Login / Register