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Vezhlivy Otkaz

by Vezhlivy Otkaz

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1.
I'm Learning 02:41
I am learning to hate anyone who is calling me sir While I’m smiling with those who received gifts the three wise men bore Let the rest sleep behind iron windows, eyes shut Chasing sawdust with wine drained of all trace of blood Let them dive into regions where thick void resides While they point stiff umbrellas at rain and against dragonflies If I were someone else, I would never allow me to stay One sweet lady for word games, another to study the play But the words will fall short once the midnight sheds plenty of light Surely you understood what I’d never recite With yourself as a shield against dawn overdue, You replied: Get this straight, sweetheart – never, oh never with you! Goddess, you are insane, but my sanity, too, comes undone I could maybe care less, but just us under lockdown’s more fun And when you hoist the lavender flag way up high I shall open a brothel beneath these here skies And the sirens will holler a Chopin’s fanfare For the kids the adulterous, agelessly
2.
Action figure dads Wishing sweet dreams to their girls and lads Columns touched by gray With foreheads lighting their murk away Houses built way back Are crushing, tumbling, all out of whack joe and ginger ale Dancin’ the boogie as subway wails Scaffolding is up Contractors’ crew really got their chops The cue line growing yet Hard frost forecasted by cold, cold sweat Earth is split in half Some find it joyful, others feel wrath Water à la mort – A mute mouth’s healer of last resort Dawn on replay… Nay, nay, nay Spend time with me now Stranger… Farewell… But that’s insane You’ll forget your words to say and answer: “Yes!” Ringing of the bells Calls celebration then bids farewell Legions of the blind Stand guard at strongholds long left behind A fictitious look Beneath a white mask, an ear-side hook Springtime twists and turns While sleepless, lovesick it slowly burns Dawn on replay… Nay, nay, nay Spend time with me now Stranger, farewell But that’s insane You’ll forget your words to say and answer: Well yes, is last night here to stay? Well yes, but this is just a game In the dreamy maze. Yes, but is last night here to stay? Well yes, but this is just a game This is just a game In the dreamy maze.
3.
Helper-Man 05:18
There it looms right over the chocolate bar A monument to the fighter for strong coffee And the rays are earth-bound from way too far Gilding his face we’ve seen one time too often Housebound plants grow flowers that give us wreaths And the trumpets call to battle I do know that you too, so much like me, With self-defeat so vehemently grapple I do know… Only the dailies will keep us honestly posted Honor the poet with all his talents well- boasted. A poet is harmless insofar as creatures are harmless, Since he cares to take the substance. Followers lights candles to devotees To honor their death penalty forever. Here I am, copying all stunts to a tee, Since even he who executes is never all that clever. But flowers and the substance straight up In reality, are nothing – Sing as you please – but words and that’s that. What else was it that you wanted? Only the dailies will keep us honestly posted Honor the poet with all his talents well- boasted. Now that by beauty he’s wholly devoured With substance in exchange for flowers. There was a time when this substance was lead Well, now this song has become good as…
4.
How many dates in others’ slumber lakes While life goes on somewhere and surf goes mad The spring has sprung from rooftops’ frozen flakes, A spinster smitten with a younger lad My morning comes right where your sleep has waned Where you caress the skies with hands so small The statues laugh that grimly stand, detained And you are shouting to yourself: girl, stall The merciless hands of love The electric chair Lit up. Please tell me who? One question bound to fail He follows you – can tell by looking back The trains of rainclouds rush to get derailed And stars do squint to see them come off track Forgive you me, I’ve seen what’s really there There ice grows thin and filthy bridges span Make one step forward – catch revenge unfair As darkness’ bounty turns to drunkard’s rant The merciless hands of love The electric chair Lit up.
5.
Hey! 05:05
Hey there blacksmith! Go on, strike the iron before our heat cools So what of it if metal is locked Into trade-tested tools We are ready to face all the furnace’s fiery fuel Saying over and over You, ringed little brother, please take us to school Live this winter all slumped And, come spring… Slowly fade And, come spring… Slowly fade But with no trace of a hump Hey there blacksmith! Go on, strike the iron before our heat cools Broken-backed, I remember just these words: “Pipe down, graveside ghoul!” Death ain’t what gets you straight, it’s the feeling that your track is right We are set to recover Our mouths’ former might Singing, winter-long, slumped And, come spring, and, come spring… Slowly fade But with no trace of a hump But with no trace of a hump Hey there now, hey. Hey blacksmith! Go on, strike the iron before our heat cools Sing you corpse, vote you serf, gunman fire away like a fool And when homeland should summon us back from where we lie in wait I will speak to you straight All the possible us is just me I, the snow winter dumped, Come spring, turned earthly lumps But with no trace of a hump
6.
The Farewell 06:49
Hush or the words will awake, Eagles will holler, forests will quake, Clang. Wind brought forth scents of the day Words pure as lilac Back when Their first love began Amber, the moon and the grass, Inscribing the windows with rain, Winter has melted In fields. Monet breathing close to the heart A boy in the street full of “Dreams” Quietly sings “Nation, rise up!” Asphalt his only turnout Rusted from thousands of cars Branches of scars In the dust. Lonesome, the steps make a chain Slaps on the face from your portrait, Fused with the eye Of my land! My fault, Sorry, I can’t sing no more I’m donning a cloak of glass My fault, Sorry, I’m eastward-bound My fault! Greetings, oh concrete, my friend! You made things so cozy for me What with white crickets And fear. The past in the left hand clutched tight Squeezed till the temples pop up, That’s the response To the call of the land! My fault, Sorry, I can’t sing no more I’m donning a cloak of glass My fault, Sorry, I’m eastward-bound My fault!
7.
Aivazovsky of seas unearthed Lobachevsky of night sky vastness You bore into the firmament And the rocky earth Don Quixote of orchestra pits Armored mechanized company’s Hamlet Read the regs to your closest friends But they’re on their way out of here Your phone number’s useless to me Wish I could forget your address And today I feel like singing, that’s all See if that makes it better Edison of erogenous zones Lomonosov of lives too private You could make everyone rejoice But you care no more like before Your phone number’s useless to me Wish I could forget your address And today I feel like singing, that’s all See if that makes it better Forest dweller of wooded trails Sitting tight for the southern breezes Spring is here and your Pegasus Flutters brand new wings Dump the compass for armored names Ditch the map for the sixth sense proper Thus the chiefs of nomadic strains Spin the line of time ‘cross terrain Your telegraph’s useless to me Wish I could forget your zip code And today I feel like singing, that’s all See if that makes it better Your fax number’s useless to me Been a while since I remembered And today I feel like singing that’s all See if that makes it better And today I feel like singing, that’s all See if that makes it better And today I feel like singing, that’s all See if that makes it better Make it better Make it better Better? Better

about

The collection of songs before you, most of them from Dust On Boots, reflects the musicians' creative output from 1985 to 1987.

It's a charming spoof on one's own life experience, with nothing outstanding in it except for the first few encounters with the "no," uttered ever closer and closer..

Over it's time in existence, the band has being growing smaller: its namer was the first to leave; the flamboyant Gor made himself conspicuously scarse; the guitarist took to singing; and the vocalist turned keayboard player, later replacing the bassist.

In 1988, Roman Suslov created a series called Ethnic Experiences. Emotions born of the city now dissolve into the vast expanses of the national cosmos, where notes ring that suggests a genuine longing for the lost trust in reality, a memory of the fleetingness of bliss and a stirring convinction that there is no ultimate truth of all.

Maxim Trefan, 1988

credits

released January 25, 1989

Roman Suslov guitar, vocal
Mikhail Mitin drums
Dmitry Shumilov bass, accordion, grand-piano
Andrey Solovyov trumpet
Sergey Ryzhenko violin
Ivan Volkov sax

Music by Roman Suslov

Lyrics by Pyotr Plavinsky (1, 4)
Gor Oganisyan (2, 6) and Arkady Semenov (3, 5, 7)

Recorded in 1988-1989

Recordings and mix by Andrey Vetr

Original artwork by Sven Gundlach

Originally released by VTPO ‘Firma Melodija’
(LP C60 28791 008) in 1989

2016 EDITION
produced by Vezhlivy Otkaz and Geometry record label
under the license from FSUE Firma Melodija

‘Portrait’ was recorded and mixed
by Andrey Pasternak for the 1990 New Year’s Eve
'Programma A' show on Russian Television

Lyrics translation by Ilya Shlepakov

Cover design by Dmitry Mokshin

Audio editing by Eugene Gapeev

Producer Slava Nedeoglo

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all rights reserved

tags

about

Vezhlivy Otkaz Moscow, Russia

Vezhlivy Otkaz was formed in 1985 with a then-popular reggae/ska blend. Since then, they have gone through numerous stylistic changes,
flirting with everything from free jazz to Russian folk. Their sound, however, has always been unique and immediately recognizable.
Suslov’s rhythmic guitar work and unusual high-pitched vocals gives VO’s music a precisely constructed,
crystal-clear sound.
... more

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