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Russia's Orthodox Church Youth Outreach Program The priest is going, "Father Sansei is very impressed with grasshopper Sasha’s...
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Club Review June 2, 2008
 
Clubbing Adventures Through Time
The gay, the indie and the romantic By Dmitriy Babooshka Browse author
 
 

As in all science fiction time-travel stories, my adventures began unexpectedly. I was stuck in traffic somewhere around Serpukhovskaya when I saw an unremarkable building with the name Moscow Physiological Theater on it. Another advertisement in a small font on the entrance promised the joys of "Introduction of club Incognito". There were a few masks decorating the ad to make it look more secret.

As you may know that some newspapers like The Moscow Times make their living by running "introduction" sections where they usually feature pictures of famous actors or models with "call anytime, massage" messages. I have no idea how these call girls look in reality (better ask Ames) but I'm sure they have nothing in common with Christina Aguilera or Terra Patrick (unless you're willing to dish out the big bucks).

Even though I never used these call services, I realized that "incognito" could have some journalistic value, it could be a real swing club.

The reality of it was beyond my expectations. After paying 400 rubles for the entrance, I found myself standing in the middle of a dark room filled with people. Judging by their outfits and behavior, they were from the working class or grotesque specimens of the low-paid office plankton species. There were considerably more men in the club and they were enjoying their vodka from plastic cups and relaxing in plastic chairs.

A few middle aged ladies were dancing next to a stage that featured a live performance of some gay singers with bad voices. They were bands with names like "Nancy" or "Byeliy Orel" (Queer Eagle). These poor saps were semi-celebrities, and had one or two cheesy hits during their short and lousy careers and their lo-fi videos were very popular at the start of Yeltsin era. We didn't have any music scene at the time, as you can imagine. Everyone was being charmed by Brazilian soap operas, eating humanitarian food from the US and dreaming about big about living in Brighton Beach. The time when Russians considered America as a cool country is gone. Today our stars like Dima Bilan win singing contests and we kick Canadians in ice-hockey and Brits in soccer, just like in the USSR. I guess we need to arrange a spectacular explosion on some remote island with a nuclear bomb so everyone understands we deserve to be feared again. Anyway, I was stunned to know these music-mammoths still exist and perform. Most of them got fat and lost their voice along with their hair, but were still jumping on the stage.

Incognito featured a long list of these forgotten bands to entertain their working class visitors as well as some parody shows like "krivoye zerkalo" or "spoiled mirror" where they place mirrors on the stage and invite people from the crowd to laugh on themselves. I was a bit frightened when a heavy-weight lady with bad breath invited me for a "white dance." I was doing my work for the eXile, I had to investigate her motives. After a dance, which seemed to last an eternity, she offered me a drink. Her name was Anya and she had a bottle of champaign at her table and a flask of cognac in her purse under the table. A couple of other "girls" completed the scene. There was nothing strange in Anya's desire for my young and hairy flesh. She worked as a confectioner making cakes at "U Palycha" factory and saw very few men at work. As I understood from her mumbling, her husband was serving in jail for "burglary and wearing police uniform." She liked Incognito because it was "a fun place where she can easily get men's attention." But after she invited me to continue the party at nearby obschezhitiye with other "girls" I understood I couldn't stand this craziness any longer. I excused to leave to the loo and one minute later I was free in shawerma shuttle and heading to see LEBEDINOYE OZERO, a new outdoor summer club and chill out zone opened by the people behind Solyanka.


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LATEST ARTICLES

Save The eXile: The War Nerd Calls Mayday
Editorial
The future of The eXile is in your hands! We're holding a fundraiser to save the paper, and your soul. Tune in to Gary Brecher's urgent request for reinforcements and donate as much as you can. If you don't, we'll be overrun and wiped off the face of the earth, forever.

Scanning Moscow’s Traffic Cops
Automotive Section
We’re happy to introduce a new column in which we publish Moscow’s raw radio communications, courtesy of a Russian amateur radio enthusiast. This issue, eXile readers are given a peek into the secret conversations of Moscow’s traffic police, the notorious "GAIshniki."

Eleven Years of Threats: The eXile's Incredible Journey
Feature Story By The eXile
Good Night, and Bad Luck: In a nation terrorized by its own government, one newspaper dared to fart in its face. Get out your hankies, cuz we’re taking a look back at the impossible crises we overcame.

Your Letters
[SIC!]
Russia's freedom-loving free market martyr Mikhail Khodorkovsky answers some of this week's letters, and he's got nothing but praise for President Medvedev.

Clubbing Adventures Through Time
Club Review By Dmitriy Babooshka
eXile club reviewer Babooshka takes a trip through time with the ghost of Moscow clubbing past, present and future, and true to form, gets laid in the process.

The Fortnight Spin
Bardak Calendar By Jared Lindquist
Jared comes out with yet another roundup of upcoming bardak sessions.

Your Letters
[SIC!]
Richard Gere tackles this week's letters. Now reformed, he fights for gerbil rights all around the world.

13 Toxic Talents: Hollywood’s Worst Polluters
America By Eileen Jones
Everybody complains about celebrities, but nobody does anything about them. People, it’s time to stop fretting about whether we’re a celebrity-obsessed culture—we are, we have been, we’re going to be—and instead take practical steps to clean up the celebrity-obsessed culture we’ve got...

 
 
 

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