Yury Chernavsky
When Yury Chernavsky began work as a music producer in late ’70s USSR, there was little around him to draw inspiration from and so he looked to the advances and innovations happening in the West. His career began in the late ’60s as a jazz musician, playing the violin and saxophone as a member of various orchestras, including ensembles led by Russian jazz stars Oleg Lundstrem and Leonid Utyosov as well as Muslim Magomayev’s State Jazz Orchestra of Azerbaijan. Inspired by Coltrane, Count Basie and Quincy Jones, Chernavsky worked the concert circuit for over a decade before moving into musical direction, composition and production. In the ’80s he emerged as one of Russia’s first modern-day music producers, working with rock and pop groups as well as experimenting with early synthesizer and studio technologies. In 1983 he recorded Banana Islands with Vesyolye Rebyata [Jolly Fellows], one of the first Russian rock albums to gain international attention, and three years later he founded SPM Record, Russia’s first independent music and entertainment company, and acted as musical director for the Goodwill Games.
In this public lecture as part of the Red Bull Music Festival Moscow 2018, Chernavsky sat down with local journalist Denis Boyarinov to discuss his early years on the Russian jazz circuit, discovering production and electronics and creating new music behind the Iron Curtain.
Hosted by Denis Boyarinov Here’s your microphone, maestro. Yury Alexandrovich [Chernavsky], let’s start with a short question. I consider you to be the first producer in Russia, and the only one. A producer in the best sense of the word and not in the sense many people, unfortunately too many, use in Russia, meaning someone who promotes a person doing strange things, considering him a kind of a trickster and most often a crook. I call you a producer in that good, original meaning of someone, who works with sound and talents and who, so to speak, brings out the best in a person, in a musician. That’s what I mean. What do you think of this definition? Do you like being called the first producer in Russia, do you agree with that? Yury Chernavsky In a way. The thing is that there was no notion of the producer at the time. There was no such word. It simply didn’t exist. In filmmaking, producers appeared earlier, while in music there was nothing of the kind. It wasn’t called production then, in other words. As the music industry developed, and when we started receiving all kinds of information from the West, I believe it was at the beginning of the ’80s, then people started using this word, I think. And there was that recording center we created. Denis Boyarinov But you called it a production center, didn’t you? Yury Chernavsky Yes, a production center. It was, so to speak, one of the first demonstrations of a system of development, and we tried our best to work the same way people did all around the world. Denis Boyarinov OK, let me remind the audience that we are talking about Studio of Popular Music Record, AKA SPM Record, which Yury Chernavsky founded in 1985 and which was not only the first sound production studio in the USSR that cooperated with artists, but one of the first privately held companies in the country, because private entrepreneurship was only beginning to emerge and at that time it was referred to as cooperation. As far as I know, your company was the second privately-held enterprise registered in the country. And who, do you think, was the first to register such a company? Yury Chernavsky Well, we can only guess, but the next day after Mikhail Sergeyevich Gorbachev announced the creation of self-supporting enterprises, the instruction was given and corporate seals started being used. Yes, we were number two, it was funny. We deliberated a lot on who might be number one, and then decided that it was Mikhail Sergeyevich himself. Well, just in case. He registered something, just in case. Most certainly, in case something happens. Denis Boyarinov We’ll talk about the Record Center later, because it’s a big and interesting chapter in the history of Soviet and post-Soviet show business. Let’s start with your biography. Where did it all start from? As far as I understand, it all started with jazz. Your first profession was as a violin player, you learned to play violin, then somehow you deftly turned to the saxophone. As a matter of fact, I must say, it’s pretty much like a 360-degree turn, that’s how I would put it. Yury Chernavsky It was simply a time when I had to decide for myself what to choose. I was finishing the music academy, my studies at the conservatory were pending, and all those things. It went quite well with the violin. As I’ve already mentioned in some interviews, I got [a grade of] “very outstanding” for the state exam. It was a state exam for my specialization [in the violin], and it was something extraordinary. Everybody was so amazed, because nothing of the kind had ever happened before. As far as I know, no one else has received “very outstanding” for the state exam since then. Nevertheless, we’d been listening to saxophones and jazz. It was in 1960… what? From 1967 to ‘68, I believe. Denis Boyarinov In 1968 jazz was not like it was in the United States, right? In 1968, in the United States, jazz was a well-established traditional form of music. In our country the situation was absolutely different, because young people had only just discovered jazz music and started to play it. The first jazz festivals in the Soviet Union were held from 1965 to ‘66. That is you were, so to say... Yury Chernavsky Well, yes. Denis Boyarinov ... in the second stream, because the first one was stifled in Stalin’s time, and you were among the first in the second stream of jazz. Yury Chernavsky In any case I remember that the saxophone interested me, I liked it. I liked the instrument. It produced such an unusual sound, it all was so fashionable and attractive, this [imitates saxophone sound] and the like. Then I remember that I went to the army and stayed there among musicians of a military band for about six months. And sitting in a depot, we watched the festival which took place in Tallinn. Denis Boyarinov The famous Tallinn Jazz Festival, which officially discovered... Yury Chernavsky Sasha Pischikov, a brilliant saxophone player. We became close friends later and together played all these passages of Coltrane, because he was a perfect Coltrane player, to the very roots of his being. You wouldn’t be able to knock it out of him. Eric Dolphy didn’t mean a thing. Coltrane. And we were two Coltrane players in the whole country, we met in big bands where, for example, Boris Rensky played. Actually, it was him who made me leave the city, the city of Tambov. I left Tambov. They came there, as they said, “to dance, to listen,” to the musicians. And the next day, they introduced me to Boris Borisovich Rensky. Denis Boyarinov He is one of the jazz masters of the Soviet Union. Yury Chernavsky There were just a few such people in the country, him and [Oleg] Lundstrem, and that’s it. Well, and [Leonid] Utyosov. Denis Boyarinov You played in Utyosov’s band as well, as far as I understand, didn’t you? Yury Chernavsky Yes, in Utyosov’s band as well. Denis Boyarinov Who was better as a jazz band leader, Utyosov, Lundstrem or Rensky? Yury Chernavsky Rensky was the leader of the orchestra, it was a jazz orchestra. And Utyosov... They began as Vesyolye Rebyata [Jolly Fellows] and kept playing in the same manner, and they remained Vesyolye Rebyata. Utyosov simply invited me. I knew him, we met somewhere on tour. I knew him quite well. He said, “Yury, join us as the first saxophone.” And by that time, Lundstrem’s orchestra had already disbanded, because all its members were required to get a household registration in Moscow. You see, “No household registration?” Regardless of whether you’re a general, a developer or a musician, you’ve got to have a household registration! So all members of the orchestra left in order to obtain a household registration in Moscow. That’s when Leonid Osipovich [Utyosov] caught me. He told me, “Yury, sit down, together we will... I heard you play... All is well, there is new music. Let’s play new music.” So we started playing a kind of new music. I created some arrangements, and we’d been rehearsing... Denis Boyarinov In Coltrane’s manner? Yury Chernavsky Yes, pieces by Quincy Jones, Count Basie, these kind of classics; American classics. But, of course, we experimented and created our own compositions, some beats. Nevertheless, it all ended sadly, of course, because during rehearsals the whole orchestra was looking at me as if I were insane. I told them, “You need to play the hi-hat [imitates drum] this way, and you need to play [imitates melody], and bongos [imitates percussion],” and they were like “What? [puts hand to forehead in confusion] Vesyolye Rebyata! Tu-ru-du-du!” Of course, things were dissonant. We were all distressed. I felt harassed because we had to rehearse something, and they felt harassed because they had to sit and try to play all this. Denis Boyarinov We should also keep in mind that you were 25, 27 years old, you were a young man from Tambov. Yury Chernavsky Yes, something like this. Denis Boyarinov While Utyosov’s orchestra included experienced musicians, who were around 40 years old. Yury Chernavsky Well, yes, 40 was like an average; young men aged around 40. Denis Boyarinov It was simply an intergenerational conflict. Yury Chernavsky It was something like that. Then in Muslim’s orchestra there was a different situation, there... Denis Boyarinov I’d like to talk more about Muslim, because Muslim was none other than Muslim Magomayev, the great Azerbaijani and Soviet pop singer, who at that time was basically considered to be our Elvis Presley. Not because of the nature of his voice or, as it happened, the music he performed, although, as we know, Muslim Magomayev also used to sing twists. But rather because of the worship associated with him in the Soviet Union. Muslim Magomayev worship in the USSR, I believe, was pretty much like Elvis worship. In our country, there was obviously a kind of Magomayev-mania and you witnessed that, being a musician in his orchestra. First, tell us about Muslim Magomayev’s orchestra, so we can understand what it was like. It was a State Jazz Orchestra of Azerbaijan, as far as I understand. How many people played there approximately? Yury Chernavsky In the whole orchestra, there were about 60, 70 people. Denis Boyarinov 70 musicians? Yury Chernavsky Yes, famous female violin players, the whole thing. And our group of horns, five saxophones, five trombones, five trumpets, all as it’s supposed to be. But this big orchestra played only large concerts organized for governmental purposes, while a much smaller group went on tour. But the smaller group wasn’t so small, after all. It consisted of about 20 musicians. Not 60, but still 20. Denis Boyarinov A teeny-tiny group. Yury Chernavsky Yes, but what was important is that we all could fit into Aliev’s Yak-40 [airplane]. He generously gave it to us for touring, and it would wait for us each time after the trip. We would gather in the morning bone-weary, and the plane was waiting for us somewhere at the end of the field. It took quite some time for us to gather and board. Then an order, “Take off! Stop, don’t take off! Muslim is still asleep!” Jesus, Muslim is still asleep, which means we’ll have to wait for another four hours. Broadly speaking, we had flexible flight schedules... Denis Boyarinov So, within the Soviet Union you toured on a private jet? Yury Chernavsky Yes, I even had a chance to fly it as did all the other members of the team. Denis Boyarinov Well, that was a totally rock & roll life. Of course, Alice Cooper had his own private jet, and you, together with Muslim Magomayev, had one too. Yury Chernavsky It’s not really like we had our own private jet. He had it for himself alone, and shared it with 20 people. Denis Boyarinov But that was communism, you lived in the Soviet Union. And where did your small group of 20 people perform? Yury Chernavsky At sports arenas; the largest, of course. I don’t know about Elvis. In fact, Elvis is still an iconic figure [in America]. They celebrate the key dates of his life, a lot of fans arrive and set up camps, you know. Nothing of the kind happened with Muslim, because the system here itself didn’t allow that kind of worship. It denied such youth leaders. Denis Boyarinov At some point Muslim Magomayev had to pay for his star status. He became a victim of his own success and popularity. Yury Chernavsky I believe so, yes, he was so tired. But he had success like no one else. I worked with many different people and I liked to move from one band to another, to play in various styles, to compose and try something new. As for Muslim, his personality caused a hysteria among all women. I think among men as well. Because it was difficult to differentiate the boys and the girls there, when a Volga arrived at the staff entrance after the concert. Usually it was a black Volga, that belonged to the Regional Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, with the flashing light. And all these girls surrounded the car and literally carried it from the staff entrance to the main road. Simply carried it with their hands! That is, you could not see the car underneath. Sometimes it was like that. Not to mention some serious demonstrations in front of the hotel where our group lived. Denis Boyarinov What did you play in Muslim’s orchestra? Of course, people wanted to hear songs like “Svadba, Svadba Pela I Plyasala.” [A song called “Svadba,” or “Wedding.”] Yury Chernavsky Yes, we played “Wedding,” “Blue Eternity.” Denis Boyarinov At the same time you had a passion for all things progressive that had to do with jazz-rock? Yury Chernavsky There was such a mix of top-notch musicians, all the best people from [Anatoly] Kroll’s orchestra, from Yury Saulskiy’s and from many others. The orchestra had been assembled from the finest musicians. You see, for one concert we earned more than the First Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Wages were absolutely crazy, and of course, it couldn’t last long, only about three years. Then there was a financial inspection which was carried out by the OBKhSS [the Soviet financial police]. “How much?” One of us sat freezing in the Rafik [a minibus, the RAF-2203] while the man in accounting shouted for everyone to hear when we arrived to get our payment. “How much? 50 rubles for one concert?! And the same amount as bonus for going on tour?! And as much for solo?!” Denis Boyarinov We need to explain that in the Soviet Union people were paid according to standard payment rates, which were strictly regulated. These rates didn’t depend on how well you played, but rather on your rank, right? If you were an Honored Artist of the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic, for instance, then your payment rate was eight rubles for one concert, eight! And here an ordinary musician earned 50 plus 50 plus 50, this was, of course... Yury Chernavsky Well, it would be wrong to call us ordinary musicians... Denis Boyarinov Well, by ordinary, I mean having no rank. Yury Chernavsky Yes, they somehow were unable to appreciate it... They were such “experts.” As for the big band, they played perfectly and almost everything was played from sight. They were incredible professionals. Among them were Robik Andreyev, Radik Shakarov; nobody remembers them now. Also Volodya Levitin. They were people who played in the fifth octave, all those tutti sections, as if they played flute or trumpets. Denis Boyarinov Nikolay Levinovsky, for example, was one of the music directors. Yury Chernavsky Yes, there was Levinovsky there [imitates playing keys]. Denis Boyarinov Levinovsky, a great keyboard player. He was one of the few Russian jazz musicians who went abroad to the United States, had a successful career there and is still writing music. Yury Chernavsky I don’t know about his career, but he has his own orchestra there. Not a big orchestra; a medium-sized ensemble, and they perform quite successfully. Well, together with Sasha Pischikov we are an example of exactly such an alliance. We immersed ourselves in all these philosophical matters, related to Buddhism, Europeanism, Confucianism and other philosophical schools, it was in general something... It was only later, as I understand it, that rock & roll adopted such philosophies. These were the basic concepts, so to say, to which we added something and put those ideas into people’s heads. As a reward for our work, we were allowed to play a couple of songs with the orchestra. When Muslim left to get some rest, naturally there was a complete mess in terms of music, so much new and unusual stuff was played every day. One day, Kolya would write something, the next day it would be Sasha Pischikov, me or someone else. And we played all this, and it was wonderful. These were the sips of freedom. Can you imagine Muslim singing, “Akh, eta svadba, svadba, svadba,” [lyrics from the “Wedding” song] and people scream, try to reach him with their hands, someone faints, paramedics run with stretchers, someone’s being carried out. And then we appear. And the audience falls into lethargy. They sit and talk to each other. However, we also found tricks to wake them up. We learned to play to the crowd, but still there was such a huge contrast between “Wedding” and our compositions, you see? It was impossible for us to compete with Muslim. Nevertheless, later jazz-rock became something big. It began with bands like Earth, Wind & Fire, names like Bill Chase, perhaps you remember them. Denis Boyarinov Blood, Sweat & Tears. Yury Chernavsky Blood, Sweat & Tears, and it was very exciting, rhythmic and simply great. Denis Boyarinov Was Muslim Magomayev attracted by fashion trends? Did he want to try jazz-rock? Yury Chernavsky He was, and I even created a version of “Svadba” in the manner of Bill Chase. Denis Boyarinov That’s interesting, “Svadba” as jazz-rock. Tell me more about it. Yury Chernavsky It was not easy. Our orchestrator approaches me and tells me, “Listen, our chief orchestrator is ill,” and he was often ill, approximately once a week, after the weekend. Concerts exhausted him. In general, the tiredness had its effect. So he says, “Yury, we have a concert, we need something new, Muslim wants something fresh, can you help?” Well, we come in, and Muslim says he is a progressive person, that he likes music. Very well. So we settled upon Bill Chase. We have good trumpeters, they are all tall. We started, and there is a complicated pattern. At the beginning the trumpets play at the top of the range where there is a complex pattern, then there is a pause, and then it goes into a rhythmic pattern. A bit fractional, a little bit Latin-American, a little bit like that. And he sings about his “Svadba.” And in the end, at the rehearsal – the whole orchestra is there – everyone looks sour afterwards, you know... Denis Boyarinov The weekend. Yury Chernavsky After dates with beloved girls on Sundays. In every city someone had a beloved girl, because we’d been to these cities many times. So we start to rehearse, played everything well; the rhythmic textures, off-beats, everything. Muslim is silent! Muslim, “Just a second, now I will...” So, we rehearsed the rhythm. All goes well. Once more, again off-beats, quick intro, trumpeters play at the highest range, already red-faced like tomatoes, it’s difficult to play like this. Off-beats; Muslim! No answer. “OK, got it.” We start again, trumpets played their part perfectly at the top of the range… off-beats; Muslim? “Go-o-ot it,” says Muslim, “Now we’ll do it!” And six, seven times like that. Jazz-rock was difficult for him. Then our trumpeters, who could hardly walk off stage they were so tired, called me to their table after the rehearsal to have a cup of coffee. Robik Andreyev, a very good trumpeter and a competent musician, says, “Yury-jan, if you write jazz-rock for Muslim ever again, I swear on my mother, I’ll quit, I want to die in my native land.” This had a fantastic effect. And then comes Muslim who says, “That was real jazz-rock, let me just get used to it a little.” So we never even talked about jazz-rock after that. But all the rest, the team, was great. I’d never seen so many flowers. First of all, I wondered where they got them from, there must have been special trains... They must have used their own Azerbaijani channels. The stage, which was much larger than this room, in the sports arena, was all covered knee-high in roses. Denis Boyarinov I know you’ve got more stories about the fun you had as a rock & roll and jazz star, when you played with Muslim Magomayev’s orchestra, but let’s go back to the music. Later, as far as I understand, when OBKhSS discovered your real earnings… Yury Chernavsky It was all over. Denis Boyarinov The musicians’ salaries were set back to standard Soviet rates, and the orchestra consisting of star jazzmen disbanded, right? And you, curiously enough, as far as I know started working in Metropol restaurant. You... What did you do there? Yury Chernavsky At that time we’d already been very much into new [musical] developments. Peter Gabriel emerged, his band Genesis was already well known, Phil Collins emerged, and all this London crowd, as they call it, which also included Brian Eno, Bryan Ferry, then Sting, Gabriel, Elton John and all the rest, like George Michael. There were many of them. By the way, now a very serious system is being developed there under Ed Sheeran. A lot of talented young people aged 19, 20 work under him. They have amazing voices and work hard, and the audience reciprocates, which is interesting. The music is not so simple, and they get 70-100 million views in a week. In a nutshell, London has always been a kind of breeding ground. People make their first steps in London, then they go to New York, progress there, then to Los Angeles, where they record their albums, then in Los Angeles they receive financing from New York, their music is distributed and producers create all kinds of campaigns to make stars of these nearly accomplished musicians. Of course, nothing can compare to Hollywood. The main value of producers there is that they never work with beginners, or those who achieved early success. You need to go through all the rounds by yourself and when you’re almost ready, when you’ve already achieved something, when the girls follow you on Sunset Boulevard, that’s when they come in and take you to an international level and spare no expense or anything else for this purpose. Denis Boyarinov But let’s go back to Moscow of the late ’70s, to Metropol restaurant. Why would an accomplished musician work in Metropol restaurant? Yury Chernavsky We didn’t tour much, musicians were not in demand at all. Well, who needed us when Vesyolye Rebyata was considered to be the best band in the universe. Denis Boyarinov At that time in the Soviet Union. Yury Chernavsky Yes, so you can imagine that everybody who could play and sing, if you couldn’t sing a word in English of course, your career would be over. Denis Boyarinov Well, you couldn’t do it on stage, but you could in a restaurant. Yury Chernavsky You can play anything in a restaurant. The cooks were also very grateful and they would treat us with delicious things. As soon as we arrived they called us, “Guys!” we were like, “Yes?” I don’t remember what songs they liked, Elton John or whatever, so they asked us to play something of that kind, and we did. Denis Boyarinov You played Elton John for cooks, and they treated you for that. Yury Chernavsky Yes, they set up a very beautiful table, a big table, which was right near the stage, and we looked at it, because it would be improper to eat during our work hours, so this table was always reserved for us. After each new song we played they brought a new dish to the table. Not to mention different Caucasian songs, that we also performed with pleasure, especially given that we were treated with such delicious shashlik [grilled meats] for that, that was… Denis Boyarinov In a jazz-rock manner! Yury Chernavsky I think each of us could sing something with pleasure. Denis Boyarinov So Moscow nightclubs in 1979 meant things like Metropol and some other restaurants, right? Yury Chernavsky Metropol, Budapest. A very good band played at Budapest... Denis Boyarinov Where excellent musicians would play whatever you wish for 25 rubles per song. Yury Chernavsky These guys could sing perfectly, they were wonderful vocalists. But then all of this, again, you know, no matter how hard they tried there they wouldn’t be able to go to another country, where nobody understood Russian. It was like in the 19th century with Russian classical music, I think. Until the age of 18 I played a lot of classical music and, from my point of view, our classics were no worse than music composed by Verdi and the others. Denis Boyarinov You mean the Mighty Handful, the Russian composers? Yury Chernavsky Well, not only the Mighty Handful. As we discussed, [Alexander] Borodin, who else... Denis Boyarinov Yes. Borodin, [Nikolay] Rimsky-Korsakov, [César Antonovich] Cui. Yury Chernavsky Right, Borodin was the leader of their group. And not only them. Take more recent ones, such as [Sergei] Rachmaninov or [Pyotr Ilyich] Tchaikovsky, they created interesting music. 60% of all classics performed nowadays, even in the United States, that are rotated on classical music radio stations, are from Russia. Classical music from Russia. But as far as singing, it’ll be in Italian. That’s how it is. The Italian language was considered the right language for singing, and it remains so. As for modern culture, it’s absolutely different. You won’t be able to do anything without the English language. First of all, because everybody got used to it, and then people now are more or less familiar with English. Even in Russia, I believe every fifth person can speak or at least understand English. That’s why it’s easy to understand the lyrics, the English language sounds. It’s impossible to obtain such specific sounds singing in Russian. English words sound softer and you can sing them off-beat; that is this manner of singing in colloquial English, with the English syllables developed earlier. So when you hear the same music in another language, it sounds a bit strange. But now the Chinese do something in this area, Asian people… Denis Boyarinov People in many countries do. Yury Chernavsky Yes, but they do other experiments, work with disco stuff, that’s what it comes from. But all classic rock music is in English. Denis Boyarinov So, in your point of view, the problem with Russian music is that Russian singers are of no demand abroad, due to the language barrier, right? Yury Chernavsky Yes, it’s the principal thing. Denis Boyarinov Vocalists in our country don’t and can’t sing in English. Yury Chernavsky I don’t think you’re right. We have plenty of those, who do and can, but nobody supports them. Everywhere they turn to they face hurdles. And we together, remember, created a website similar to that of my first record label, but that was the second version. We created a site, where was it? Open Space. Denis Boyarinov On Open Space. Yury Chernavsky We created this on Open Space and announced that, “Those who sing in English, who want to work all around the world and not only in their native country, who want to go beyond the borders, to see what there is, how people live there, how they play and sing…” Because when you’re introduced into a new system, into a company of interesting well-prepared musicians somewhere in the West, you should also get a little prepared, right? Otherwise they won’t accept you, they’ll close the door and that’s it. You should prepare a little, a tiny little bit, because if you can’t do even that or can’t even ask, “May I come in?” Or have to deliberate a lot in order to say something like, “Hi, buddy!” That’s why in this case language plays a vital role, so that we could say, “Here are our guys, from Russia...” And how many musicians, do you think, who could write and compose their own music, visited us? Artemy Troitsky, we invited him, he also visited us. Artemy Troitsky said, “Yury, what are you talking about, we won’t find anything there, there are five people, five friends, who sit somewhere in their cellar strumming something...” So having no big expectations, we still opened it together with Denis. On the first day 200 bands arrived, didn’t they? Denis Boyarinov Well, there were very many applications. Yury Chernavsky Actually, their English was very good. Well, they had a little bit of an accent, but that was no big deal. At least, they had the music, the lyrics, all this. People were actually ready to learn to do it professionally and to work. If you work with such a person, then in two years, he’ll be in the music industry. This someone will become a superstar or will be a musician working in the studio or will be giving small concerts somewhere. It doesn’t matter, he’ll be among all these people. You see, all these famous people didn’t just become famous in one day, they earned their status. Take George Michael, for instance, who died several years ago. Today as we were coming here by taxi, the taxi driver turned the radio on, and there George Michael was singing, and the driver looked sad... Denis Boyarinov A taxi driver? Yury Chernavsky Yes. He said, “I have all his albums at home, and this is my favorite song.” That is… Success doesn’t come cheap. Denis Boyarinov No, it doesn’t. OK, so we have talented people in Russia, but they lack support, right? We don’t get it from the state, we don’t see it. Yury Chernavsky It’s not about support, it’s just that... Denis Boyarinov ... in the Soviet Union there was no such thing at all. Yury Chernavsky We simply faced a lot of hurdles everywhere. It’s not only that they didn’t offer any support. They even threw obstacles in the way. This is prohibited, and that. Denis Boyarinov OK, let’s go back to your own story: How you, despite the fact that you lived in this rigid Soviet system with all its obstacles, managed somehow to stick to your own principles and do it your way. And I’d like first to give a few music examples so that people not familiar with the songs of Yury Chernavsky can better understand. So, right after you left the job at the restaurant, you joined Krasnye Maki [Red Poppies, a vocal and instrumental ensemble]. Let’s just listen to what Krasnye Maki played when Yury Chernavsky joined them. (music: Krasnye Maki – “Spinning Disks”) I’d like to emphasize that it was the first time the words “disco club” and “disc jockey,” used in this song, were heard in the Soviet Union. That alone is an invaluable contribution made by Yury Alexandrovich. Yury Chernavsky People didn’t know that such words existed. Denis Boyarinov Yes indeed, many people heard these words for the first time and the album itself, which was called Kruzhatsya Diski [Spinning Disks] was a conceptual album representing the disco DJ approach. It was mixed; that is, tracks were mixed into each other. Yury Chernavsky Yes. Denis Boyarinov No one had done anything of the kind before in the Soviet Union and hardly anyone came close later. But technically you had to write and produce disco music in absolutely different conditions compared to Americans. That’s what I particularly like; you had these crazy electronic sounds, which later became a trademark of yours. How did you do it technically? What kind of synthesizer did you use then? Yury Chernavsky At that time the first synthesizers were appearing on the market and by a twist of fate I had a chance to play on them, thanks to being a part of Krasnye Maki. Although the band was not fantastic, it was created by the Tula Regional Committee of Komsomol. The young man who was the leader of the band was a tough nut. He always wanted his band to have the best. Including all the first synthesizers, such as the Moog, when it had just appeared. Everybody already knew about it. Moog, Moog. I also had a Moog, then ARP, then some others. That is, we had several good synthesizers; not bad, you could do something on them. I worked as a keyboard player. Of course, I can also play piano, but synthesizers always interested me, I liked to work with timbres, with banks of timbres, with some very interesting sounds. Denis Boyarinov And that’s how you got to the forefront of electronic dance music in the Soviet Union. Yury Chernavsky Yes, what I created in the studio was almost impossible to recreate. You see, on the synthesizer you simply turn some knobs. You adjust the frequency, for instance, and get absolutely different sounds. And that was before people started making sound banks… Denis Boyarinov All these presets... Yury Chernavsky To download MIDI you needed to know all those settings, you literally had to be a professor. That’s why I did something for myself every day. That’s how the first years were, and they quickly passed by. We recorded “Banany” [“Bananas”] in 1983, and then everything was, so to say... Denis Boyarinov The quality became better. Yury Chernavsky The equipment became more advanced. It’s still valued, by the way. Now these synthesizers are called vintage synthesizers. Denis Boyarinov Classic models, yes, from a golden era. Yury Chernavsky The Jupiter 8, for example, cost $500 at that time. Now its price... I checked an online store and they had a used Jupiter 8 for almost $10,000. Analog synthesizers are coming back now and growing in value. People have played with the digital stuff, which is now only used for recording, and only with advanced applications, allowing you to export MIDI files which are then replayed using analog sounds and recorded on tape. That is, on a digital synthesizer you record melodies for different instruments; the digital stuff is easier to edit, you see. And the sound itself is absolutely different from the one you have on tape, because here it’s much softer, richer and more dimensional. That’s how it is; what’s old is new again. Denis Boyarinov Since we started talking about Bananovye Ostrova [Banana Islands], I need to say that this album was a milestone in the history of Russian pop music, which, in my opinion, did not receive due recognition. Because despite the popularity of the album, it was not officially released until 30 years later. It had been lying on a shelf, and the whole story that was invented by you, together with Vladimir Matetsky, unfortunately, was not released in due time. Bananovye Ostrova was a revolutionary album; you can read about it on the internet. The good thing is that you created it using the capabilities of the Vesyolye Rebyata band, which was the most popular ensemble in the Soviet Union at that time. I’d like to give you some examples of what Vesyolye Rebyata were playing before Yury Chernavsky joined them. (music: Yury Chernavsky – “Malchik Bananan”/ applause) Yury Chernavsky They used this song in the movie Assa. People are familiar with this composition only because they watched the movie. Denis Boyarinov Most people know this song as the soundtrack to Assa. But the song was written much earlier, and it inspired the screenwriter of the film to create the plot. That’s why the main hero of the movie is called Malchik Bananan [the boy Bananan]. But that’s not what I wanted to ask you. So you created this album using Vesyolye Rebyata; Pavel Slobodkin got scared and didn’t want to release it, and that’s why the album wasn’t released. It was released unofficially, and quickly sold out. People would dub tapes of it from each other, and within two years the song “Malchik Bananan” was the main hit at Soviet disco parties, according to organizers in Moscow and Leningrad. So I have a question: You had all these technical capabilities at your disposal, all these musicians from Vesyolye Rebyata who loved to play with you – you can feel it when you listen to the record. So why did you decide to sing yourself in Bananovye Ostrova when you had professional vocalists at your disposal? Yury Chernavsky Yes, Buynov could sing quite well, Lyosha Glyzin also, but he was our lyricist. Who else... And there were other solo vocalists, but they were about the country which… And it all turned out kind of strange, funny, and I hated it. You mean the way Pashkin staged all this, right? Slobodkin, [imitates music intro then sings] “I Vesyolaya Strana” [“And Joyful Country”]. That is no fun at all. No relationship to the original ideas, like, “It seemed to you that we had also prepared, yes, for you.” And then he became a member of the Union of Composers. Denis Boyarinov Unfortunately, there’s very little time left. We only have five minutes, so if anybody from the audience has questions for Yury Chernavsky, you have a chance to ask them now. Audience Member For 30 years, since Assa was released and the song became popular, I’ve been wondering… Someone claimed – I don’t remember now who it was – that [the character] Bananan was created as a hint that the KGB monitored all telephone conversations, that in each phone handset there sat such a Bananan. Was Bananan really intended this way or was it just tomfoolery, when these words were written? Yury Chernavsky Well, I believe every fool has his own agenda, right? People don’t fool around for no reason, everyone has a message that he wants to deliver. Naturally, the sound I made in that song at that time was very popular. But people on the board of artistic experts didn’t see any meaning in it. I wrote all the lyrics relying on the guys I communicated with. We kept very cheerful company in Moscow, consisting of the local elite, which included various gamblers, doctors, philosophers, artists, sons of members of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the USSR, alcoholics and many others. In general, it was such a diverse team as they say now. It was a cool community, we never had a dull moment. And this was written for people who could read between the lines... Who could extract some meaning even if it seemed senseless at first sight. But these were actually nothing but ordinary short fictitious stories. Naturally, there were some stories with numerous layers of meanings, like with this robot, “I’ve gone crazy,” I wrote the lyrics for it, this refrain was written when I was watching TV. I lay down on a couch – we’d already finished this album, and we needed a couple more songs. And I lay down and watched TV with half-closed eyes, and there appeared a man with a tie and medals, he was a hero of labor – a mine worker-operator, this kind of multi-hyphenate – and he started talking. And the more he talked, the more it became clear that he was a total moron with regalia. And I sat and listened, unable to extract any meaning from his words. He said, “We reached, we have a party.” And I had an idea that he was not a human, but a robot. Simply, “I’m a robot, I’ve gone crazy, ” and that’s it. [claps jokingly] Whoever was alive at that time must remember those funny TV shows with... Nowadays television also reminds us of those times. Denis Boyarinov That’s why today the Bananovye Ostrova album remains relevant, I would say. Other questions? OK, one question, please. Do we have time for one question? Audience Member I have a question regarding the Goodwill Games of 1986. How did you get involved, how did you receive that proposal to write the music? Was it the initiative of our party leaders or did the Americans themselves find you? And one more, excuse me, accompanying question. Is it possible that your music, as well as music written for the Goodwill Games and for our cartoons, will be released in the future? Yury Chernavsky Guys, I don’t know, the thing is that I didn’t keep original records, you see. When all is well, you don’t spend time collecting your own pictures, right? And then comes the time when people ask you, “You were so pretty when you were a boy, and where can we find your picture?” And there’s no pretty boy, because nobody took a picture of you. That’s why we didn’t keep the originals, thinking that the Soviet power was strong and soon we’d have communism all around the world, and all original records would be kept safe for ages. And now, given that everything was plundered and stolen, I have no idea where to look for them. Although, maybe with help... If Denis asks for help, “Guys, could you please help us to find something.” By the way, that’s what we did. You helped us, as far as I remember. Denis Boyarinov Yes, there is the vinyl anthology published in a very limited edition... Yury Chernavsky Yes, you helped us to find those. Denis Boyarinov ... in fact, that was all we could find and collect from the available records. The thing you are talking about, of course, we would also like it very much, to hear the music for the Goodwill Games and the music for cartoons, but they are really now only available on YouTube, there are no originals. Yury Chernavsky And there was an interesting story related to the Goodwill Games. We’d already recorded something, well, not something I took to like a duck to water. And I’d already started making music. You know, there were interesting people. Alla Pugacheva, we were friends and we still keep in touch. We were good friends and communicated a lot for about ten years until I went to Europe. Also Misha Boyarsky, who is not an ordinary person, anything but a simple guy. I poked fun at him, and he produced such masterpieces. That’s all Vova Presnyakov, and it was actually me who pulled him out from where he lived, somewhere on the outskirts of Moscow. They had an apartment there, and I was just making a film with [Georgi Yungvald] Khilkevich, called Vyshe Radugi [Above the Rainbow], and there the boy had to sing, well, in a boy’s voice, and everybody suggested to try girls, because it was impossible to find 13-year-old boys. And I couldn’t stand those boys, who considered “The Marmot Boy’s Song,” written by Ludwig van Beethoven after a night out and with the most terrible hangover, to be a great work of art. Well, it was a song for music schools, that’s all that was generally available. And then I visited Volodya Presnyakov Sr., we were old friends. And he said, “I don’t know, here’s my kid, I don’t know where to settle him. Yesterday they drank beer with some guys.” We talked and he said that nobody wanted to hire him; he could sing, he had taught him to sing Al Jarreau. He said we must have met. He also sang in falsetto, finely, various fioritura. He said, “I taught him to sing, but this falsetto, what is it. Nobody...” And I had this 13-year-old boy with “Marmot” in my mind, with a high-pitched voice, whom I listened to recently. And I asked him to show me what he was like. So a boy comes running, a merry, curly-haired boy, and asks, “What, papa?” “Well, play something, improvise.” He sat, and expertly played all those tricky parts at the very top, including leaps, skips, intervals, improvising quite well. And I had an idea, “I think I know what to do.” That’s how the star called Vladimir Presnyakov was born. Denis Boyarinov Thank you very much, Yury Alexandrovich. Unfortunately, we have to end now. Thank you very much, thank you for... Yury Chernavsky. [applause]