Microcobra: "Please, Play With Me"

Eight new tracks of Russian-language chiptune from Estonia; a small field, it must be said!  Microcobra is a one-man outfit, namely 25-year old Sergei Evdokimychev.  He has been working as a musician and vocalist for over two years, but still seems to have some troubles with the financial aspects of his career.  He advertises his services as a DJ online, but the going price for a set is 17 rubles - approximately 50 cents.

Maybe one day he'll be able to afford furniture.

This new release from Microcobra - "Please, Play With Me" - can be downloaded for free.  What makes this net-disc appealing is that it interweaves the often cold nature of chiptunes with several other styles.  Evdokimychev lists his core ingredients as two-step, breaks, D&B, breaks, and synth-pop.  That all helps to energize an otherwise limited and sometimes lifeless musical form; we then get a series of sound bites from cartoons and other aspects of Russo/Soviet kids' culture.  This, too, vivifies the whole release and makes it much more appealing.  On a couple of occasions the spoken samples are so layered, the music sounds like an Oleg Kostrov project: lots of giggles, squeaks, and other unannounced noises from the hidden corners of a little city.

Evdokimychev's Russian-language introduction or promo-blurb is full of the same childish playfulness: "Hello!  Here's my first album, 'Please Play With Me.'  It's released on the RUSZUD label.  You can download all the original tracks )))  The general sound is 8-bit mixed with old-school drum and bass.  The music was made with keyboards, sound effects, some ideas, plus all the programming work.  DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO ADD?"

Hello! Here's my first album, 'Please Play With Me.' It's released on the RUSZUD label. You can download all the original tracks ))) The general sound is 8-bit mixed with old-school drum and bass. The music was made with keyboards, sound effects, some ideas, plus all the programming work. DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO ADD?

The playground is open for business: 2D snacks are available for flat children.

Elsewhere, this time in English, he defines the album's general air as "sweet, happy music, full of funny melodies for friendly people - the kind of people who live today in yesterday's childhood."  When members of that childhood came out to play, as at a recent Tallinn party, they were invited to dress in "8bit punk."

Maybe that means one of Malcolm McLaren's nasty sweaters.

An Estonian online poster for that event (below) proudly declared that it had also been inspired by years gone by, namely by "oldschool 8bit games."  The sounds to match that inspiration would sound like "indietronica-dance-nu rave-chiptune-no wave-punk..." all played at a great speed. Everyone start running around like Super Mario!

Childish retrospection may have its place in Russian-speaking Estonia at the moment.  This week the last Russian opposition newspaper closed due to financial difficulties.  In Moscow the national media have linked that closure to a series of other events.  At the start of April, a few Russian-language TV stations went off air in Belarus, supposedly because they lacked the necessary broadcasting permits.

A few days ago, Ukrainian officials then said that Russia's state TV could no longer broadcast in the nation, since it did not conform to advertising legislation.  As so often happens in Slavdom, paper-based "violations" are used to invoke all manner of malicious forces.

At a time like this, with decreasing access to one's own language, fragments of past stories are bound to take up residence in one's memory.  A visit to Tallinn's main Russian church (above) might be in order.  Estonia's role in the upcoming Eurovision Song Contest may also be a reason to hide for a while.  Russia's entry, as we've reported, involves the unwelcome creative involvement of people with Ukrainian, Georgian, and Estonian roots.  Russia was hoping to produce a clearly domestic statement for a clear-cut victory.  The nation's dogged determination even made to the pages of today's New York Times
.

There we are reminded that, “for whatever reason, in Russia this contest is taken very seriously,” said Artemii Troitskii, a Russian music critic.  Government-run television channels, he said, “make people feel that the Eurovision Song Contest is like an annual Stalingrad battle.”  Time to take cover in yesterday's melodies, where the likelihood of bloodshed is a lot less.

For whatever reason, in Russia this contest is taken very seriously.