Russia (post Ania)

Takeshi and I were dispatched to interview Mark Ronson and Kelis for MTV Japan. Not being Japanese in any discernible sense this was a lucky break and decided to capitalise on it by remaining very still and silent and letting Takeshi have his moment. Unfortunately we had a few Dave* moments where we both looked at each other then back at Mark Ronson/Daniel Merriweather/Kelis staring expectantly at us with their big multi-album selling eyes, and were like ‘uuurrrrrrrrggggghhhfortheloveofgodthinkofaquestion mmmmmmmmmmmmmm’.

Mostly we survived though and struck up enough of a rapport to have a late night chant-a-long in our hotel lobby after the event without too much awkward dithering. The choice of dressing gowns as attire (as seen in the pictures) I will leave to your imagination.

The event itself had something of a 3000 Russians meets Midsummer Nights Dream, bathed in red with a few more trees thrown in (birch if you must know) and a stage suspended way above the baying crowd. Upon said stage Kelis cantered along on the cacophony of wailed ‘ohohohohoho’s’ (Trick Me) and Ronson led Merriweather through an original rendition of Stop Me. From our perch in the V.VIP (which John and I had snuck into using the last reserves of our charm and guile) we then witnessed the huge ‘Smirnoff Experience’ projection part with the flick of a canvas to reveal Faithless floating onstage in a cloud of charisma to meet the Russian Orchestra. This was pleasing. Having occupied myself mostly with swing dancing and enthusiastically seeking out snacks in between acts I was quite ready to settle into Jackanory mode and plant myself on a high stool to watch them from the balcony. This continued… with increased head bobbing during Maxi Jazz’s on spot bouncing.

As we’d been so busy with the event, we had to scramble to fit in some more Russian nightlife before we left and decided the best place to start (as with any quandary) was with midgets. So we headed to the inventively named ‘Vodka Bar’ to…I’m going to say ‘get down’ but don’t worry I don’t mean it…to some Russian trancey dance while enthused midgets danced above us on a flame covered bar. We also went to some uber swanky bars and restaurants but in terms of originality they were up there with beans on toast. They do have an ultra nice policy of ‘face control’ in Moscow though where basically if you’re not rich or beautiful you are encouraged not to darken their doorstep. We’re talking Prince Philip rude. In fact he’d probably be blushing were he through a cosmic twist of fate to find his royal self in a queue for a Russian nightclub.

So, from Faithless, pyrotechnics and Doorman cruelty, now it’s onto South America where we shall sharpen our spears and hunt and gather some rreeaally original nightlife and grab two new members while we’re there. I would say something like ‘stay tuned’ but I wouldn’t mean that either.

*Dave; Male, 35, Balding, Found in the Banyan Tree at Glastonbury 07…paused in the middle of performing a particularly fruity version of Champagne Supernova, looked hastily right, left, right again, stopped, seemed to see for the first time the 50 or so soggy strangers staring back at him rubbing mud from their eyes. Then. Calmly got up and left.