We've written on several occasions about Oleg Chubykin with both enthusiasm and respect. Having spent some time looking at his future potential for Russian songwriting, we've suddenly been thrown in the opposite direction - with the appearance of some "lost recordings" from 1998-2001 (above). They have just been released in a limited edition of CDs, one of which has fortunately found its way from a shop shelf into our collection.
Chubykin was born in 1974, a few hundred miles from Russia's main Pacific port of Vladivostok. He refers to his hometown with some wit, calling it Russia's version of Twin Peaks. Today, as he reminds us, there's not much to do in the settlement of Arsen'ev except go skiing or make army helicopters. Even you've done both, tedium is likely to loom sooner or later.
People will travel great distances to get away...
And so Chubykin started making music, inspired initially by early recordings from The Beatles. As he trained his musical hearing, he simultaneously wished for poor vision so that he'd be obliged to wear glasses... the round style, of course, made popular by John Lennon. More than new eyewear, though, what he really needed was a writing partner. Eventually, by the time he entered Vladivostok University, he had teamed up with a couple of friends to form an outfit that would go on to become a local legend: Tandem.
Since the city had been a closed zone during the Soviet period (due to the naval stations), Vladivostok went through a real renaissance in the 1990s, conjuring all manner of novel activities, cutting-edge festivals, radio stations - and, of course, new bands to fill those airwaves. This, after all, is the time and place that gave birth to Mumii Troll; to this day the city produces more than its fair share of homegrown talent - and most certainly deserves a place in any shortlist of Russia's best local scenes.
This, however, would not be a local snapshot.
And this back-story brings us to the time of the lost recordings, now released under the collective title of "Juice and Tears" (Sok i slezy). Chubykin was working at a local radio station (New Wave) and used their LP collection to make a large number of samples and loops for his own recordings. He claims to have been a big fan of funk and hip-hop at the time, but the range of samples on "Sok i slezy" is much wider (and gentler). There appears to be a general penchant for the 1960s and '70s, with all manner of soundbites from The Doobie Brothers, The Beatles (especially "Revolver"), Chicago, Elvis Presley, and others.
Some are very specific or surprising, such as a recognizable quip from Lennon's "Live in New York City" or what appears to be the first line of an old Cliff Richard number ("I Love You"), slowed down to a snail's pace.
In essence, the range of used materials is extensive, but there's a common element here in a leaning towards MOR materials. Chubykin, as hinted in the title of this post, soon became known as Vladivostok's version of Beck for his marriage of cleverly looped samples and glitchy hip-hop, but there's an evident and enduring love for classic songwriting that dictates the choice of audio-quotes.
This aesthetic (or work ethic) seems attributable both to the late '90s and the town in which the recordings were put together. At a time when the Soviet music industry had passed away, yet rapid commercialism had already led to some rather cynical, cookie-cutter tendencies, Chubykin's love for songwriting as a craft led him towards equally mainstream, yet well-structured classics from the US. Vladivostok was - at least for several years - the perfect, accepting venue for experimentation.
И, как следствие, 2009 и, кажется, достойный времени для Чубыкин лент "с вновь появиться, по следующей причине. Мы сравнили его с Аль Стюарт или Джеймсом Тейлором и раньше, так как его мягкая, утешая звук действительно в духе тех, которые признаны, ретро и сочных сочинителей; благодаря этому "новый" альбом, хотя, сочетание DIY проб и низким, глубоким поклоном перед виновного удовольствия ЗО может служить второй, пожалуй, высшей цели. Это памятник спальни творчества, которые могут помочь, чтобы показать новый генеральный молодых писателей, что это возможно - с помощью мыши перетащить и падение, а не вырезать и вставить.
Vladivostok's "New Wave" radio station was evetually forced to close down once Moscow's post Soviet pop-media gained the ability to broadcast nationwide. Now those same media have, in turn, been outstripped by web-based creativity that erases the difference between Moscow and Arsen'ev.
These new opportunities to disseminate music do not, of course, come with any guarantee of quality... And so Chubykin's musical chop-shop, full of classic cuttings, should serve as a fine example of what can be done with a pile of old records, a nod towards the Hall of Fame, and an equal desire to push relentlessly towards change(s).
Now would be the time to buy some scissors, glue, and fish (for that Pacific aroma).
Start practising with the image below.
