Winter

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My favorite Russian band has got to be АукцЫон (note the idiosyncratic spelling — AuktYon in English), but I haven’t posted much by them, primarily because their lyrics — although highly creative, linguistically playful, and often absolutely hilarious — can be almost impossible to translate.

In my view, AuktYon is the most unique and most innovative late Soviet rock band — their music is quite unlike anything else in Russia (that I know of), and — perhaps more interestingly — I can’t really think of a single Western rock group that they resemble. I think for that reason they may be more of an acquired taste for many students — heaven knows I didn’t take to them immediately the way I did to, say, KINO or Akvarium; they struck me at first as completely bizarre, Dionysian. But if you give them a chance they’re probably the most rewarding Russian band I know of. It can take many listens to pick up on everything going on in their songs.

They’re a true ensemble — one lead singer, another “showman” and declaimer of poetry (sometimes he even ventures into some of the earliest rap-like delivery that I know of in Russian music), another fat guy on the keyboards who happened to write most of their brilliant lyrics, and others on horns, percussion, etc. As great as their lyrics are, they’re at their best, I think, in long instrumental passages that, to me, are often just stunning. That was especially true in live performances, of which I must have seen five or so.

Anyway, I’ll try to post more by them, but I cannot recommend them enough — their first five or six albums or so, ending with the album Птица (The Bird) are simply brilliant from start to finish. I love a lot of classic Russian bands, but to me, musically and lyrically, this is the cream of the crop.

This song is from their 1991 album Бодун (literally meaning something like “one who gores” (i.e. jabs with horns), it can also mean “hangover” — the more common term for that in Russian is похмелье).

 

Winter

Whether it’s the sun not shining for me,
Or the kids, or not getting what I want.
Whether I’m having fun, or it’s evening,
Or it’s the wind, or it’s an airplane.
Like one fallen from a cloud, I can’t catch a break;
Summer will heal me, fall will teach May…
Summer heals, autumn laments,
I can’t catch a break — farewell, my Happiness!

If I weren’t radiant,
I’l brew a potion.
Perhaps you’ve noticed,
I’ve got fun…

Winter winters with me,
Winter steals from me,
Winter kisses on my behalf,
I’m got winter…

Whether it’s the moon, angry in the sky,
I can’t seem to sleep,
Must not be the season for it.
Whether it’s the snowstorm having fun, or the birds,
Or the firing range.
I’m a tough one, but I can’t catch a break;
If the chance presents itself, summer will drive me mad.
Summer heals, autumn laments,
I can’t catch a break,
My happiness is winter.

Outside my window
The snowstorms are building nests.
You’ve got sunshine,
I’ve got fun.

Winter winters with me,
Winter steals from me,
Winter kisses where I am,
I’ve got winter…

Whether I’m having fun, or it’s evening,
Or it’s the wind, or it’s an airplane.
Whether it’s the sun not shining for me,
Or the kids, or not getting what I want.

Зима

То ли солнце мне не светит,
То ли дети, то ли не даёт.
То ли весел, то ли вечер,
То ли ветер, то ли самолет.
Как из тучи - я невезучий,
Лето излечит, осень научит май...
Лето лечит, осень канючит,
Я невезучий, Радость моя, прощай.

Был бы я не светел,
Заварил бы зелье,
Может, ты заметил -
У меня веселье...

У меня зима зимует,
У меня зима ворует,
За меня зима целует,
У меня зима...

То ли месяц в небе злится,
Мне не спится,
Значит не сезон.
То ли вьюга веселится, то ли птицы,
То ли полигон.
Я живучий, но невезучий,
Выпадет случай, лето сведет с ума.
Лето лечит, осень канючит,
Я невезучий,
Радость моя - зима.

На моем оконце
Гнёзда вьют метели,
У тебя есть солнце,
У меня веселье...

У меня зима зимует,
У меня зима ворует,
У меня зима целует,
У меня зима...

То ли весел, то ли вечер,
То ли ветер, то ли самолет.
То ли солнце мне не светит,
То ли дети, то ли не везет...

 
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