lector
22 sep 18
DeRank ™: 34,21
Stories that Should Be Told (6) Boris and His Bolshie Balalaika Boris and his Bolshie Balalaika.wmv
I confess: I have a visceral love for this man. But how can you not have affection for this monument to bad luck, an improbable dropout who is way out of time, a remnant of an era he didn’t even live through, someone who has paid for all his choices, every single one, down to the last, ultimate freak?
The young Boris, the son of a Russian diplomat, finds himself in Sweden at the end of the 1960s; just in time to witness the extraordinary concerts that Jimi Hendrix holds in those parts during those days.
The young Boris is stunned and decides to dedicate his life to music; he steals a balalaika from his father and transforms it into an electric instrument with an incredible sound.
And he leaves home, playing wherever he can and compiling a repertoire of Russian folk songs turned into booming psychedelic anthems and Hendrix covers. Determined to make himself a bridge between East and West.
And that’s how, traveling and playing, we find him in Hungary during the height of the "Prague Spring" and the subsequent repression of it. And, at such a moment, Boris doesn’t think twice and goes to play, naked, his balalaika in a square full of people, in protest.
Result: he gets arrested and locked away in a labor camp, and they throw away the key.
They keep him inside for ten years, subjecting him to psychiatric treatment and reeducation. When he emerges in '78, he manages to reach his family, who have fled to England. He is a broken man, emptied. It will take him five years to resurface from the darkness, but thanks to meeting the New Age Travellers, groups of freaks who celebrate their gatherings at Stonehenge and hold an annual music event there, Boris takes up his Balalaika again.
In '84 he plays at the Stonehenge festival, and someone starts to think about getting him to record something. The folks from Delerium arrive and throw good old Boris into some of their compilations, then also release a recording of one of his concerts.
But Boris isn’t one to take the easy route, and besides, bad luck has decided not to take even a day off with him.
In '85 the police decide that those freaks, the New Age Travellers, over at Stonehenge, have now gone too far and decide to disperse them. The event is still remembered today as "The Battle of Beanfield." Boris finds himself in the midst of it; in fact, he does more: he sees a policeman joyfully beating an old hippie and doesn’t think twice—he smashes his Balalaika over the cop’s head.
Moral: Boris, after experiencing Russian jails, also gets to know the English ones.
It seems to end there, but the folks from Delerium haven’t forgotten about him; they search for him and find him after another ten years.
In '95 "Psychic Revolution" is released.
It’s an incredible album, I can’t say anything else—just incredible!
And today, where is Boris? He’s out there still playing, face painted, electric balalaika, flashy clothes…
Damn, I love this man!
I confess: I have a visceral love for this man. But how can you not have affection for this monument to bad luck, an improbable dropout who is way out of time, a remnant of an era he didn’t even live through, someone who has paid for all his choices, every single one, down to the last, ultimate freak?
The young Boris, the son of a Russian diplomat, finds himself in Sweden at the end of the 1960s; just in time to witness the extraordinary concerts that Jimi Hendrix holds in those parts during those days.
The young Boris is stunned and decides to dedicate his life to music; he steals a balalaika from his father and transforms it into an electric instrument with an incredible sound.
And he leaves home, playing wherever he can and compiling a repertoire of Russian folk songs turned into booming psychedelic anthems and Hendrix covers. Determined to make himself a bridge between East and West.
And that’s how, traveling and playing, we find him in Hungary during the height of the "Prague Spring" and the subsequent repression of it. And, at such a moment, Boris doesn’t think twice and goes to play, naked, his balalaika in a square full of people, in protest.
Result: he gets arrested and locked away in a labor camp, and they throw away the key.
They keep him inside for ten years, subjecting him to psychiatric treatment and reeducation. When he emerges in '78, he manages to reach his family, who have fled to England. He is a broken man, emptied. It will take him five years to resurface from the darkness, but thanks to meeting the New Age Travellers, groups of freaks who celebrate their gatherings at Stonehenge and hold an annual music event there, Boris takes up his Balalaika again.
In '84 he plays at the Stonehenge festival, and someone starts to think about getting him to record something. The folks from Delerium arrive and throw good old Boris into some of their compilations, then also release a recording of one of his concerts.
But Boris isn’t one to take the easy route, and besides, bad luck has decided not to take even a day off with him.
In '85 the police decide that those freaks, the New Age Travellers, over at Stonehenge, have now gone too far and decide to disperse them. The event is still remembered today as "The Battle of Beanfield." Boris finds himself in the midst of it; in fact, he does more: he sees a policeman joyfully beating an old hippie and doesn’t think twice—he smashes his Balalaika over the cop’s head.
Moral: Boris, after experiencing Russian jails, also gets to know the English ones.
It seems to end there, but the folks from Delerium haven’t forgotten about him; they search for him and find him after another ten years.
In '95 "Psychic Revolution" is released.
It’s an incredible album, I can’t say anything else—just incredible!
And today, where is Boris? He’s out there still playing, face painted, electric balalaika, flashy clothes…
Damn, I love this man!
DeBaser says
right now