Translated by Stepan M. Pechkin
Storation area (2:402/711.21) STORE From : Kat J. Trend 2:5030/207.69 Fri 13 Jun 97 09:59 To : Stepan M. Pechkin Sat 14 Jun 97 12:11 Subj : Wish anybody...
Hi, hi, Stepan!
Thu Jun 12 1997 00:21, Stepan M. Pechkin wrote to People!:
SMP> Is there anybody wishing to take the job of describing to me what happened on Katy's SMP> birthday
Well, if everyone keeps silence, let me try – in details.
I came to the Warf early in the morning, worked a little, built the stage and began to wait for the people. Some in four we with watchman Stas went to meet just anybody to Smolny, but, having met no one, came back, quite got fried up by the sun. Some in half an hour the first company appeared: Knyazhna (who but afterwards left soon), her young man, Kuzya and several more young hippies – with the blessed lemonade bottle, which had appeared just in the moment. A bit later appeared Basile with 12string in backsack (poor old 12string, she had no work that day). Bredov with all the cords still wasn't there, we already began to worry, the people was gathering, but still no one tore me in pieces – perhaps, the wider space helped – when somebody with flowers come to me, I already placed the previous flowers somewhere.
In the end Bredov appeared about after six, when we were already going to begin, quickly built the sound, tuned everything; I think, we've began at six. I think, everybody played a little – or there were again some misunderstandings with time, because we have finished quite early. To the end of the tuning Kuzya started to reveal petulance, so she went first, we gave her a stool to put her foot on (in hobble-skirt, poor thing) – and everything went on.
Kuzya was really good even before (I am hardly able to hide the fit of pride for myself, who so happily put all of them on :) Well, see: I was very sorry that Basile already ran somewhere to walk out Mishka (Lera), because Kuzya sang a lot for him, and for me, and it was worth hearing.
To the end of her program it was my turn to upset – two numbers of the program were missing, so the second was "Bashnya Rowan", [Rowan Tower] proved its name true this time by erecting Mashka upon the stub, seems to me, specially brought over there for this. But even before all this my two missing numbers came back, merry and with beer.
How I enjoyed Tikkey! That is, went away somewhere everything that grated me in the Tower against Tikkey solo. They tuned to each other with Voldemar at last, who now sings backing and plays block-flute. Timofey plays now something proper, and in the whole, it seems to me that Tikkey was moved by it there (2Tikkey: is it?) by that ship, on the river bank. At all, it seemed to me that we are all at our places. In the end I was close to crying from joy, so it touched me.
Bearry added to that process her dark-merry note – you must remember her songs – I'd pointed them as "how fun it is that everything's so horrible". Besides, Bear's presence in the program showed that we with Basile can work together – I had her in mind but didn't call her and didn't say anything to him – he caught her in the street himself and brought to the session. See how fine it goes. She looks funny on stage – blonde, in black, with a merry round face singing darkest things. Precious!
Aha! We've come to Basile! He played with two basses. He wrote one another song (consisting of one rhyme, as it is with him last years), finished "Hangover Locomotive" and looked shokingly stylish. Matezius joined him with accordeon, I with tambourine as a drum, it was not just fun, but everybody unleashed from the chain. Our captain, who saw half the concert, liked Basile the most. In one song Kuzya sang backings, in another – I did. Everybody was turned on. And he is still given to self-humiliation, an asshole. I'm just proud of this friendship. We should hold such things more often... Well, they can not work continuously, like Ptitsa, but at least to have some fun... :(
Well, and surely Brain coming from Moscow, who looked strangely sexually-upset, he sang two songs, one of them – your "This ain't gonna help me, baby" – not bad also, in whole, and powerfully. Well, I say, beginning from Basile everyone was moved without stop.
"Kryshanaprokadt". Our Russian Tom Waits. They called for me to beat the tambourine on stage, and I came – with tambourine and a bycicle pump, not that I thought it fun, they just have presented it to me a minute before the show began; don't know what about the people in the yard, but we on stage were having unspeakable fun, but they say that it looked too much careless, which I readily believe, knowing Vovka – he lived last month of the term in such strain that now he has a kind of retreatment. Well, there was no piss, and that's good. Nobody pissed, as it is, except me. And I, after forty minutes of beating the tamburin, heardly could hit the strings, and I have broken the nail...
But why am I running forward, this must have been told in this paragaph. It was an absatz indeed. Basile states that I was shouting all the way. I just have found once more that after the beer in hot weather I can't sing from the throat, and for to sing from the belly I had to raise volume, which I did with pleasure, because I was driven on. To this minute I have already understood that everything went fine, in the whole, and tributed to life madly. Of course, it was not my solo – there were Vovka, and Bredov, and Gustav – but it was not the Ptitsa either, because it was all very careless – the common Ptitsa temperance, finitiveness was totally absent, the more because well-known songs like "The Coomb" or "Flying Dutchman" I mixed with ballads that not everyone from the concerned persons had even heard. And suddenly in one moment the thought struck me, that "and in your lands only the late sun will remain as it was ever" I sing immediately to the late sun, and I felt myself absolutely happy, and in parallel I have dug that such refinement of senses is conditioned by the highest degree of exhaustment – you bet, after our common nocturnal life to come up in seven and in ten p.m. to be still on foot – it is an achievement for me.
And so, when everything was over, I could do no more than to walk with closing eyes, drowsily command the cleaning up and mumble "it worked... everything worked..."
And it worked, indeed...
Hi! Katy J. Trend
–- ηΟΣΠΟΦΑ λΑ 3.00.Alpha5+
* Origin: νΙΝΟΝΕΤΞΑΡ ΥΔΙΧΙΪΙΡ ΙΝ. πΕΤpΟΠΑΧΜΑ λΑΝήΑΤΣΛΟΗΟ (2:5030/207.69)
Photos from this celebration you can find here: Birthday Kat J. Trend