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Club Review February 8, 2007
Blow Katz
By Hannah Katz Browse author

I gotta say, I love the indie scene. And when I say love, I really mean it. Those of you that read my last column now why. There are two reasons and their names are Lela and Nastia. And it's because of them that I'm even writing this review.

You see, I would have rather stayed in for the third weekend in a row with my two new loves. But I do have a sense of duty to you, dear readers of the eXile. I might be a bitch most of the time, but I'm not bitch always. Life's been good to me, so why not give a bit back. Valentine's Day is just around the corner and I just couldn't bear thinking of all the dudes that read this column probably don't have a nice girl to squeeze and hold sitting right there next to you. I want to spread the love and I want you to score... With the luck I've had in the indie scene lately, I figured I'd review another indie spot that you and your buddies can go and thereby increase you chances of getting laid. Ok, here goes. This one's real, no hanky panky.

Next in our line up in the Avant Music indie compound way out by the third ring road. The place ain't your regular type of club. It's more of a hybrid between some hard core dive bar, art studio and warehouse squat. The compound consists of two places: BLOW UP and AKTOVY ZAL. Blow Up is a small apartment-style dive bar with a tiny stage that features concerts by unknown local kiddie acts. Aktovy Zal is more professional venue, at least in terms of the Russia's underground/indie music scene, and hosts a bunch of local, national and international music acts. It sort-a looks like the set design of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit" video, with bleachers and all.

Maxim, the guy that runs Avant Music, invited us to the openings of a sort of an indie open mike night that he plans on having every Saturday at Blow Up. I arrived with my two beautiful indie satellites in tow. Lela had this sort of tight tube dress that really accentuated her small hips and perky breasts and Nastia was wearing her low cut jeans that showed the cute little apex of her butt-crack. I could barely keep my hands off them. But I did. First of all, all three of us were sober. And second, I didn't want the three of us to come off as the typical disco floor lesbos that all Russian chicks turn into as soon as they enter a bar or club. We got more respect for ourselves than that. Anyway, the looks we got from the crowd were enough without us pawing each other. It was obvious that we were together and everyone in the place, both chicks and dudes, were jealous. Ha! Suckas!

When we got there, this weird Moscow kid that supposedly was the Russian version of Morrissey was setting up on stage. He had nothing but a laptop and was drunk out of his mind. When he started singing, it was weird, he really was a one-for-one copy of Morrissey. He even had the accent down. His act cheesy, as was the low-fi 80's electro music that he wrote himself and sang to. The whole thing had this pathetic middle school talent show feel to it. I know it sounds bad, but in a weird way, it really worked. Now don't get me wrong, I don't like Morrissey, definitely not but the kid had talent and rocked that stage like a true star. If Maxim manages to get acts like this up regularly, I'm definitely gonna be a repeat customer. The booze is cheap-o and the crowd is young, cute and naive. Nothing could be a better combination for some successful hunting. Oh yeah and there's the music, too.

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Save The eXile: The War Nerd Calls Mayday
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
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
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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