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The techno label Pro-Tez appears on this site with relative frequency, since their roster makes a clear and enduring distinction between issues of quantity and quality. As we noted back in 2008, "Pro-Tez operates between Moscow and Los Angeles. That’s the pedestrian description. The more elaborate raison d’etre offered by the label’s owners is that Pro-Tez functions as a 'robotic music-vessel-creature for young and forward-thinking uberdroids.' (We have no idea what a 'vessel-creature' may be.) The three men behind this obscurity are Maksim Miliutenko, Ed Karapetian, and Anton Kubikov, two of whom who play as the outfit SCSI-9. Their occasional recourse to the retro-sounds of classic sci-fi [employed in early cuts] was a good indicator of the romanticism that would drive future projects."
"SCSI-9 has now been in existence for almost ten years, using Pro-Tez since 2005 to release their own work, whilst simultaneously nurturing other artists in a series of downtempo, idm, and minimal CDs. Beginning both live practice and touring a little earlier in 2002-2003, SCSI-9 now have an extensive CV behind them."
SCSI-9 has now been in existence for almost ten years, using Pro-Tez since 2005 to release their own work, whilst simultaneously nurturing other artists in a series of downtempo, idm, and minimal CDs. Beginning both live practice and touring a little earlier in 2002-2003, SCSI-9 now have an extensive CV behind them.
Downtime is a rarity; eyes will sometimes refuse to close.
That same CV has been extended early this summer with a number of fine releases, all designed according to the label's desire to "create a wide scope of innovative approaches toward minimal electronic music." The resulting compositions are supposed to be suitable "both for the dance floor and the living room."
Two of those fresh publications, on the cusp of a full summer catalog, are now ready from SCSI-9 and Nooncat (aka Aleksandr Meshkov). The former, entitled "Symbols" and the work of Pro-Tez's founders, is not surprisingly blessed with loud PR. "These are two dancefloor killers that will take you beyond the clouds[!]. They're full of uplifting emotions, all fueled by the pulse of tricky, biting, and hypnotic basslines."
The second EP or maxi-single, as mentioned, is from Nooncat (below, right), of whom we've spoken in his more pedestrian guise as Alex Meshkov. The last time we wrote about him, a small biography was included: "Meshkov was born in Smolensk, an ancient town right on the edge of Russian territory. Various conflicts over the centuries have seen Smolensk thrown back and forth between Belarusian, Lithuanian, Polish, German, and French influences. It’s an address that refuses to stay still, often being nowhere in particular. Such places are in special need of defense from outside 'meddlers,' and indeed Meshkov was born into a military family, his father being a medical officer."
"Despite that career being a logical metaphor of both stable territory and physical restoration, Meshkov and his parents found themselves uprooted and dispatched to various locations all around Russia. Meshkov Snr. was even stationed abroad for several years, in East Germany. Right at the end of the Soviet Union, in 1989, this endless motion came to an end – in Moscow."
"An army career was not to be handed down to the next generation, which perhaps is no surprise, given the way that the Russian armed forces fell into sad disrepair after the collapse of socialist society. Meshkov was instead attracted by the world of fashion. This turned out to be both a wise and successful decision: Moscow’s most influential art- and music magazine of the ’90s, Ptiuch, blessed him with an award for 'Best Avant-Garde Designer.'"
"As he remarks in his own biography, though: 'Alex coped with this fame in a rather peculiar way. He soon became bored with fashion – and left the business altogether'.”
"The theme of motion would eventually return to his lifeline, albeit around the much more manageable spaces of a dancefloor. Meshkov started DJ-ing with sets that leaned towards the dark, industrial end of the musical spectrum. He would often show a preference for somber ambient cuts, trip-hop, and miserable British ensembles such as London’s Psychic TV and Throbbing Gristle."
"At the same time, he worked at various radio stations in the capital, although the cutthroat business environment of the 1990s in Russia meant that these enterprises would often come and go very quickly. The same was true of the club scene, and Meshkov admits that most of the impressive and exciting clubs of the last decade have now gone out of business."
Slipping out of view is a constant danger.
"The 2000s, thankfully, saw the emergence of his side-projects Nooncat and Amesh, together with performances all over Europe, residencies at some of Moscow’s best clubs, and – perhaps most importantly – the online project of Radio Tochka, which we have celebrated before. Arguably no other web-based site is doing more to bridge the gap between Russian and overseas dance music." With those words, our earlier outline came to an end. Today's music extends this story a little further.
The new Nooncat tracks - known together as "Chase" - are also described in pithy, enthusiastic terms by Pro-Tez. "The A-side is a state-of-the-art, deep techno piece with a powerful and straightforward drive. 'Watch Your Step,' on the flip-side, is a deep-style tune with a sophisticated groove and a fat analog sound. This is 'Russian Deep' par excellence - in a modern form."
The A-side is a state-of-the-art, deep techno piece with a powerful and straightforward drive. 'Watch Your Step,' on the flip-side, is a deep-style tune with a sophisticated groove and a fat analog sound. This is 'Russian Deep' par excellence - in a modern form.
Oldschool furniture; new sounds.
As these and other 12-inches are presented to the public, the issue arises of how Pro-Tez select their artists or compositions in the first place. Precisely this question was posed to Kubikov and Miliutenko when SCSI-9 performed a few months ago in Belarus. Kubikov answered: "The editorial principle is simple; either we like a track or we don't!" He adds that such problems rarely arise, though, since "there's not that much good music around."
This paucity allows both men to declare that Pro-Tez evolves not according to the logic of a profitable business, but more along the lines of a "domestic record collection." Miliutenko clarifies the same worldview in no uncertain terms: "The label brings no profit at all! It was created for young musicians - in order that they'd realize how necessary and important they are."
Since, in that case, Pro-Tez does not exist for the sake of financial gain, a kind word - every so often - is highly valued by all participants. Encouragement and support take the place of cash. In gathering those kind words, Miliutenko believes that it would not be proper to recall - and therefore list - the nicest things that have been said to him and his colleague over the years. Kubikov, reacting with similar restraint, holds that the best comment in memory came from his mother, who remarked that Pro-Tez music would sound very good as a movie soundtrack.
On a similarly domestic scale, Miliutenko remembers a recent incident when a friend's daughter asked to borrow a Pro-Tez track for a school production. Both he and Kubikov were touched by the girl's honest, spontaneous appreciation for their instrumentals. "Kids, after all, are nowhere near as spoiled as we adults. If they like something - then everything's great!" Modishness falls out of the picture.
And so, in developing their 2010 catalog, Miliutenko and Kubikov try actively to avoid fashion. They say that trends, by their very nature, are so subjective that they form no basis for future developments. "Fashions mean different things to various social groups. If a young Russian women reads Cosmopolitan, then she has a specific understanding of 'trendy' music. Somebody who goes to underground parties, though, will have very different opinions."
It's this conviction that underlies the PR rhetoric for the new SCSI-9 and Nooncat/Meshkov releases. The former, as we heard, promises "uplifting emotions"; the latter is "a deep techno piece with a powerful, straightforward drive." Both are spontaneous, rather than mental appreciations. Rather than rely on the subjective - and therefore profoundly "regional" - workings of fashion, it might be safer to feed Pro-Tez submissions out to schools, if pupils are so enthusiastic. If Kubikov and Miliutenko are unable to turn the workings of Pro-Tez into profit, perhaps Russia's Department of Education - and related Music Depts - might be willing to help, the kind of places where Kubikov's unabashed "Like/Don't Like" editorial policy finds its best reflection in the unmediated, "unpretentious" zeal of high-school singalongs.
Russia has just under 60,000 high schools; enough, surely, to form a healthy clientele and help Pro-Tez afford something slicker than duct tape and a wobbly table. The kind, in fact, that was probably borrowed from a school. The cultural exchange could be both material and musical: "Lend a Song, Help a Label; Loan a Tune, Gain a Table."
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