Some Old School Advice from the Headmaster: Tapeaters and Jet Peks

FFM first reported on The Tapeaters towards the end of 2009, when we sketched an initial background in order to introduce these two musicians from the city of Nizhnii Novgorod. Given that the band has now released a debut album (in fact yesterday), it seems only appropriate to offer that same context once more, at least briefly. In a word, it's particularly useful to document the band's passion for old songs, since their new compositions are spun from an equally antique fabric.

The Tapeaters are an outfit with very specific tastes; they take most - if not all - their inspiration from synth-pop of the 1980s. More specifically, they namecheck The Eurythmics, Howard Jones, Tears For Fears, Yazoo, Michael Jackson, A-ha, and - in the grander scheme of things - Stevie Wonder. Despite this relatively deep sense of historical perspective, the band is actually very young, having formed only at the start of 2009. Then - as now - it consisted of Vadim Pukhov (on vocals, synths, and guitar) together with Dmitrii Kozlov (on synths and talkbox). 

Having followed this pair through a growing series of singles, EPs, and remixes, we're now able - as mentioned - to announce that a debut album is available: "Visions." It comes with a very short announcement from the band themselves.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! We are happy to announce that our debut CD has just been released earlier today! We're very proud of our 'Visions'. They turned out just the way we wanted! We'd like to thank all of you for your love and support! If our music makes you a little bit happier then we've definitely got a success on our hands!"

Phrased differently, the album is designed as an "insight" or vision of something otherwise hidden from view. That elusive quality is hedonism, pure and simple. It's what the band's label terms a "neon state, from a time when music was made purely for fun."

The songs allow listeners to enter a 'neon' state, from a time when music was made purely for fun

These references to synth-pop, new wave, and neon lights still emphasize the band's debt to the 1980s. The new CD builds upon those foundations, doing so in ways that evoke a US tradition more than anything British, no matter the bands namechecked above. In fact, "Visions" begins with the sounds of an urban street, replete with the wail of a NY police siren.

We're a long way from England.

Pukhov's and Kozlov's frequent references to that 80's heritage, however, are not made from a standpoint of uncritical adoration. What, then, do they take from this period and why?

It's fair to say that the term "new wave" evolved thanks to a couple of key differences from its punk predecessors: it ushered in a less rebellious, even provincial type of songwriter and, at the same, aimed for more lyrical complexity. Awkward romance and introspection began to replace discord and destruction. In making that shift, keyboards were also a popular alternative to guitars. Standing behind a large synthesizer made onstage "antics" less likely. These same traits are evident in Nizhnii Novgorod.

The Tapeaters' transatlantic interpretation of new wave, three decades later, goes hand in hand with another (seemingly contradictory) term that emerges in their promotional texts: "modern disco." Once again, a past fashion does double-duty in a modern setting. What, though, is the connection of this term to the portrait thus far?

One might conceivably argue that if new wave was a response to the grandeur of '70s SOR and the strident social agenda of punk, then disco emerged as an alternative to rock music in any form! The heavily male orientation of the rock canon was transformed into a dancefloor-friendly format of equal appeal to both sexes. 

Facial hair was no longer a prerequisite to fun.

It's not uncommon in journalistic quarters to hear disco defined in terms of a yearning for "collective ecstasy." This is the general ambiance that the Tapeaters' discography has always striven to conjure. Put differently, the songs of Pukhov and Kozlov epitomize the movement of fading "rockism" towards an open dancefloor, whilst politely observing the lyrical simplicity of disco.

Although these new songs are - from the opening seconds! - placed clearly within an urban locus, there's no sense of big-city rebellion. As one of their tracks has it: "Oh, my eyes are open wide. I'm amused by the city lights."

Oh, my eyes are open wide. I'm amused by the city lights...

A happy sense of wonder predominates.

Were a parallel to be sought in modern, mainstream dance music for this validation of fun over fashion, one might opt for Norman Cook. And, interestingly enough, that same figure has just been invoked in discussions of the Ukrainian DJ and beatmaker Jet Peks (Dmitrii Grishko, shown below). In previous examinations of his work, we paid particular attention to his breakbeat compositions, which remain some of the most upbeat, even joyous recordings discussed on this site.

Small megaphones and raised eyebrows speak both of volume and healthy self-irony. Entertainment is guaranteed.

Writing in March of those tracks, we said: "His extremely lively break/ D&B/ funk crossovers involve all manner of lovingly-reworked samples, the most obvious of which come from Louis Armstrong and Nino Katamadze. As with a stroll around the winding streets of his ancient hometown, Uzhgorod, there's much cultural history on display here, but little evidence of unidirectional, linear development."

Desire has no direction; collective ecstasy has even less. 

Speaking recently to the Ukrainian press, Mr. Grishko said that "each track is an attempt to find new (or long-forgotten!) ways of building some kind of structure... The compositions are full of broken rhythms - which gives them a crazy sense of energy."

The compositions are full of broken rhythms - which gives them a crazy sense of energy

In an ongoing search for that vigor, Jet Peks is just about to publish a three-track EP that takes him further still in the direction of D&B. Entitled "Overdrive," it's firmly positioned in the same hedonistic territory as the Tapeaters, although the EP's growling basslines suggest that any need for fun and games is, on this occasion, pushing rather hard against miserable actuality.

Thick blankets on the table also show us that dance music resonates loudly in the Land of Formica, Nylon, and Linoleum. It must.

Not only is drum and bass a more imposing style than anything conjured by disco; it's also predominantly male in its appeal. Grishko clearly enjoys this brief excursion into testosterone-fueled swagger. Drawing mainly, as with Tapeaters, upon an American idiom via numbers such as "Street Boogie," he's not averse to some London gangland chic in "Rocknrolla."

At which point all glitz is displaced by grit.

That track leaves us, by pure chance, invoking the spirit of Guy Ritchie for the second time in two days. His own 2008 crime flick "Rocknrolla" was a crowd-pleasing knockabout, grounded in some classic tropes of UK crime films from the 1960s and '70s. Why return to those models and styles of the past? Because - as with our musicians - the greatest, most reliable forms of pleasure are those which have triumphed over sad actuality in the past.

Disco, for example was a prime form of collective, "ecstatic" escape from a rather miserable decade. Hence the enduring appeal of gaudy turntable mats.

And so both The Tapeaters and Jet Peks dig around in their well-kept vinyl collections in order to polish off some synth-pop and funk nuggets. The more difficult reality becomes, the harder those artists work to champion the blissfully naive hedonism that still allows people to "be amused by the city lights." Mr. Grishko, in fact, is willing to amplify this worldview with almost unparalleled degrees of enthusiasm, the benchmark for which is Guy Ritchie's trigger-happy thrillers.

In closing, therefore, it's worth quoting a famous line from "Rocknrolla" that speaks to these Slavic artists' laudable efforts and their tireless enthusiasm for retro-grooves of all shapes and sizes: "There's no school like old school... and I'm the f***ing headmaster."

Objecting would be ill-advised.