http://www.mimonot.net/
http://vkontakte.ru/club357986
http://www.myspace.com/theslidesforfree
/The Slides: More Important than a Washing Machine/ A new EP has appeared from an excellent but little-known band, The Slides (Slaidy). The group hails from Russiaâs Far East, more explicitly from the town of Komsomolâsk na Amure - a place so far from Moscow that it only became part of Russia in the mid-19th century. Now, with a few hundred thousand residents, itâs a regional center of industry. The Slides provide a very energetic sound to escape the grim realities of distant chimney stacks. In fact they themselves moved, at least temporarily, all the way to Moscow. That must have been a major culture shock. The bandâs basic line-up is a foursome: Egor Berdnikov (vocals and guitar), Andrei Netovannyi (guitar), Aleksei Shorin (bass), and Aleksandr Anikeev (drums). This traditional, no-nonsense arrangement is reflected in the kind of Brit-pop or college rock influences that the group usually credits: Oasis, Kula Shaker, The Vines, and Sigur Ros in particular. The Slides - prior to any move westwards - were formed in 2002. During that six-year period, in their own words, theyâve traveled the distance from âlo-fi to noise-pop.â Theyâve also got a decent number of gigs in their CV from touring the Far East, especially in the clubs of Khabarovsk and Vladivostok, which is home - of course - to Mumiy Troll. In one interview the band starts poking fun at these provincial outings and they begin making up the names of leafy, backwater villages where theyâve supposedly performed; theyâd translate as âSlobsvilleâ and âLower Hanky-Panky,â among others⦠These difficult, unrewarding road-trips were necessary tests for material that would later be committed to disc, namely the mini-albums âStereoâ (2007) and âVelourâ (âVelurâ in Russian) early in 2008. The third recording has just been released, and consists of the audio files in this post: itâs entitled âAll the Colors of the Rainbowâ (Vse tsveta radugi). It can be downloaded here. We serve to please. When asked about the origins of their name, The Slides reply that âit just sounds pleasant. Lots of vowels.â And on the subject of style - after joking that they see themselves as an emo band - we get a slightly more serious response: âWe play a mix of indie, rock, pop, and pure noise. Itâs become fashionable nowadays for groups to call themselves âindie,â but weâre not really sure what that means: Indian girls, maybe? How about turkeys [âindeikiâ in Russian]? Itâs hard to say if we play in any one style. They claim - with dubious seriousness - to have received a positive letter from the national rock station, Our Radio (Nashe radio), assessing the band as âcool.â Allegedly the same letter also likened The Slides to some emo outfits, which left them in a state of horror: âItâs all so dumb. âEmoâ means âemotional music. So does that make [Soviet crooner] Mikhail Boiarskii emo, too? What about [late Soviet pop-composer] Arkadii Ukupnik?â Probably not. The severe discipline and self-sacrifice needed to drag yourself all the way from the Pacific to Moscow - and then slave away in the hope of public interest - means that The Slides are not patient people. They do not suffer fools gladly. Take the example of their erstwhile drummer. Instead of giving up everything in the name of music, he chose a stable, private life. The band was unamused. âBefore moving to Moscow, we had another drummer back in Komsomolâsk. He didnât come with us⦠because he was having nicer windows installed in his apartment. He wanted to start a family. He wanted kids, a car, and an apartment. He wanted to do some renovations at home; he wanted a washing machine, a microwave, an iron⦠and a board for that, too.â They later found a replacement with sufficient self-control, but he went too far in the opposite direction. âEverything turned out well to start with, but he had one problem. He neither drank nor smoked. He had a steady girlfriend.â Needless to say, he didnât last long, either. Reaching the capital, unfortunately, didnât mean that normal working relationships were guaranteed. One of the band members was reading a book on the Moscow metro - Knut Hamsunâs âHungerâ - when he was rudely interrupted. âIâm sitting there, on the subway, and reading. Thereâs loads of empty seats, but this bloody great hulk comes and sits beside me. Turns to me and says: âYou wot? Dâyou wanna say something to me?â âNo,â I replied. âI was just reading.â âWell, go on then. Read.â A minute passes by and he starts up again: âWot you readinâ, pal?â âHunger.â âAny good?â âItâs alright.â âCome on then, tell me wotâs in it. Or Iâll beat the crap out of you.ââ Welcome to the Big City. Suddenly smokestacks on the edge of a Mongol Empire donât seem so bleak. http://www.moscow.ucla.edu/?p=2418

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