The Russian New Wave
How the underground indie scene in Moscow and Saint Petersburg was shaped by a generation of young musicians.
Graphic by Ruby Rorty
“Hey, do you happen to have a lighter?”
I stepped into the small, crowded backyard of one of Moscow’s most popular bars. I was used to going to giant stadium concerts, so I found myself with an unexpected amount of free time when I was almost 3 hours early to see a small band that my friend was drumming for. There was no line, but there was a big record sale going on, so I decided to settle there for the next couple hours and kill time, walking around and looking through vintage techno records. As I sat down on a lawn chair and got out my pack of cigarettes, I saw a familiar face next to me.
“Do you have a lighter?”
It took me a second to realize that the guy asking me for a light was Tima from the band that I was seeing, as I held said lighter in my hand in mild disbelief. Of course, I handed it over. A few hours later, as I watched the same man perform from a crowd of about a hundred people, I had no idea that I was witnessing the rise of one of the most popular artists of the Russian new wave.
This was my first encounter with the Russian new wave as a musical movement – the beginning of a journey that would transform my understanding of music, but Russian music in particular.
The Russian new wave, or sometimes (incorrectly) referred to as “the new wave of Russian rock,” is a term used to describe a “new wave” of artists in the Russian indie scene in the 2010s. The post-Soviet rock scene in Russia was going through rapid Westernization; it was expected of artists to write songs in English, and the obvious influences of American bands were dominating the music industry. It took the indie scene in Russia several years to reinvent the genre of Russian rock and reclaim the cultural authenticity of Russian indie music. At the dawn of Putin’s conservative regime, a growingly unstable political situation forced young musicians to reevaluate their approach to writing music, and the indie scene started its transformational journey. More artists started writing their songs in Russian instead of English, reclaiming and reinventing the Russian language in rock music as a unique and irreplaceable source of creative inspiration and musical expression. The name of one of the first bands to bring back Russian indie as a new, de-Westernized genre, Molchat Doma (mol-CHAT do-MA, translated from Russian as “the houses are silent”) may be familiar to some of our readers. The gloomy vibes of Soviet post-punk of the 80s — especially an iconic Russian rock band Kino, which Molchat Doma was heavily influenced by — earned the band wide popularity outside of the Russian indie rock scene of the 2010s. While the “doomer” aesthetic was novel in the West, it was a nostalgic reminder of music of their youth for the Russian audience. And as Molchat Doma just started invading the indie rock scene in America, the Russian new wave was already in full bloom back home.
The revival of Soviet rock, with integrated influences of synthwave and darkwave, in the form of Molchat Doma and Ploho (PLO-ho, translated as “bad” from Russian) kick-started a new era of Russian rock in the early 2010s. Up-and-coming bands were bringing their unique musical styles to the stage. Sonic Death, a band with a witty allusion to the classic noise rock band Sonic Youth, followed the steps of Molchat Doma and Ploho in the reinvention of Russian rock and were first to introduce the concept of “music made on the couch,” which almost immediately gained massive popularity among upcoming new wave artists. Arseniy Morozov, the lead singer and guitarist of Sonic Death, said in one of his first interviews that he is an avid critic of professional production: he believes that having control of the sound of your own music is crucial to establishing the authenticity of your musical style, which cannot be reached with professionally produced music, “with the sound grossly polished to perfection, similar to what Nirvana’s later albums had.”
The rising popularity of Sonic Death and their novel lo-fi production triggered the rapid invasion of the transforming indie scene by amateur musicians. It was the time when the current “giants” of the new wave scene, Pasosh (PA-sosh) and Buerak (bu-ye-RAK), first started growing their audience by releasing their music on YouTube, Soundcloud, and Bandcamp. Early albums of some currently popular bands followed the trend of lo-fi production introduced by Sonic Death, which is especially evident in Pasosh’s self-titled first album released in 2014. While some artists, including both Pasosh and Buerak, proceeded to divert from amateur production after growing enough audience and popularity to be signed to a record label, some later artists permanently incorporated intentional low-quality production into their musical styles. For instance, Sonic Death, as well as a currently well-known band like ssshhhiiittt! (yes, this is the actual name of the band), both decided to stick with the unique homemade mixing and production style.
The “Cambrian explosion” (shout out to my fellow STEM majors) of the Russian indie scene was, undoubtedly, the establishment of the “Bol” festival (from Russian “боль” = pain). Stepan Kazaryan, the man who brought ‘Bol” to life in 2015, claims that the creation of a festival that showcases up-and-coming Russian artists was an inevitable consequence of a new wave of indie bands, primarily those influenced by Siberian post-punk of Ploho and Molchat Doma, that engulfed almost the entirety of the existing rock scene of Moscow and Saint Petersburg.. This was the first festival that preferred underground Russian artists to popular Western headliners. As the years went by and the Russian new wave consolidated into an independent musical movement, “Bol” became one of the most popular summer rock festivals in Russia, taking the honorable second place after Park Live, which, unlike “Bol,” focuses primarily on popular Western bands (this year’s lineup includes Gorillaz, The Killers, Iggy Pop and the recently reunited My Chemical Romance).
Despite its roots lying deep in gloomy Soviet post-punk, the Russian new wave has since grown outside of the genre boundaries of post-punk and rock in general. New artists brought their own stylistic quirks into the sound of the reinvented Russian underground. Tima Ishet Svet (from Russian “Tima is looking for light”), the band that introduced me to the Russian new wave in my junior year, combines the musical elements of traditional Russian music – instruments like balalaika and triangle, harmonies typical of early Russian musical folklore, and many others – with a more modern production style, creating a unique homegrown sound. Right now, the Russian new wave represents a mix of many genres of music, ranging from post-punk, Midwest emo, and math rock to alternative rap and house. The diversity of genres is shocking, yet the sound of the Russian new wave remains recognizable, especially to those who are very familiar with the culture of the underground indie scene. Lo-fi production turned from a regular occurence into a signature musical quirk of the Russian new wave. The lyrics of many songs praise the carelessness and naivety of youth, and appeal to the existential dread of early adulthood that is, undoubtedly, common to all of us.
The especially high volatility of the music scene and flexibility of genre boundaries was largely reinforced by the liberal values that underlie the Russian new wave as a musical movement. As freedom of speech was slowly being suppressed by the Russian government, young people turned to music as a way to express their emotions. The indie scene was being built from the ground up by the new generation, giving it enough room and time to expand in any direction. With practically no censorship, the possibilities were endless. There was no pressure to commit to a single project, so it became very common to work on several musical projects at a time. Felix Bondarev, one of the most famous underground producers and musicians, has at least 3 independent projects, all of which borrow their influences from a variety of different genres: RSAC (Red Samara Automobile Club), a melancholic first-born with angsty lyrics and minimalistic production; Vollny, a gloomy synthwave project that laid dormant in Bondarev’s discography for almost 7 years (up until their most recent album released in 2021); and finally, Schenki (“щенки” = pups), an intense (and quite obscene) symbiosis of Bondarev’s post-punk production and Maxim Tesli’s brutally honest poetry served in a spoken-word-like manner.
The freedom of musical expression and the high volatility of the music market comes at a certain price – many bands and projects do not survive the test of time. Projects disappear as quickly as they come into existence. Most artists first step into the Russian indie scene at a fairly young age (usually in their early twenties), so it is expected of people to go their separate ways as they discover their interests and develop their own style. Two of my friends, identical twins (not that it matters, I just think it’s cool), were playing in a band that they formed with their high school friends for over a year. They switched solo guitarists and lead singers several times only to disassemble the band at the beginning of quarantine and turn it into their own project, “Couch Surfing”, which has been quite successful so far. As growing artists often have a couple different projects that they can pick up, the music market is currently settling into a steady-state equilibrium (sorry for another STEM reference). Bands form and fall apart years or even months later, giving rise to new projects, each with its own unique “sound puzzle” made of pieces borrowed from all genres and musical eras. The role of the Russian new wave in the restructuring of post-Soviet indie music is undeniable. It is not just a “genre” of underground rock – it’s a musical movement with great cultural and political significance. It allowed young musicians to reclaim the Russian language and incorporate the long lost musical heritage of Russia into a heavily Westernized world of indie music in Russia of the early 2010s. By combining the elements of different genres of rock and electronic production in the creation of a new, authentic sound, a generation of young musicians rebuilt the underground rock scene in Moscow and St. Petersburg, paying respect to the long history of Russian music, from early folklore to Soviet post-punk in the form of Kino.
Edited by Nate Culbert, editor of Music You Need To Know
Cover art by Ruby Rorty