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Review from the Danish music magazine Gaffa may 2010
(Try this link if you want Danish version) http://gaffa.dk/anmeldelse/39077
Advanced circus music
Already on the way to the stage, The Artems was a cause of wonder. They were not just an ordinary group of people, fashionably dressed. On the contrary, the band was dressed in everything from sailor uniforms to nothing at all -- almost. The bassist was calmly standing in the corner, with nicely combed hair, and wearing a green pilot uniform; the drummer had on a red Formula One driving suit, and could easily be mistaken for Jean Alesi, not just because of the suit but also because the same temper could be sensed. On Alesi's left, the band's percussionist was standing -- or rather frantically jumping -- wearing a blue and white sailor's uniform, and in front of him was the band's guitarist in a snow white chef's uniform, with a tall chef's hat and everything. No, it was far from normal.
But it got even worse, in a most pleasant way. On the portside of the stage, a man was wearing an astronaut suit with a giant ball-shaped helmet. Who was hiding behind it? One could only imagine. The centre of the stage was occupied by the only two band members who were not wearing some kind of uniform. One of them was the Chinese-Austrian singer Lai San, the only member of The Artems who could walk off the stage and go to a party without getting into trouble with the police. Because the man standing next to her was basically only wearing a bowler hat. No, this may be a bit of an exaggeration, he did have on tall black boots with yellow laces, nylon stockings and a golden "cage" strapped around his waist, barely covering his little "manhood". What a sight! Everybody in the audience could not help smiling. I wonder if they can play, I thought.
And that they could! Are you kidding me?! Such energy. The drummer and bassist weaved a more than competent web on top of which the other musicians could play around -- and so they did, playing music I have never heard before. Or more precisely, I have actually heard all this kind of music before, just not at the same time. It was circus music, theatrical vaudeville, musical elements from the Balkans, ska, blues solos, Eastern European drinking songs, Charleston elements, and all sorts of other stuff which I am too confused to remember.
And to top off the confusion, lyrics were added to this mess of styles that only a professor in schizophrenia could keep up with. The only words I brought home from the concert were "there goes my brain", which made up a kind of chorus to one of the songs, and these words were not brought home voluntarily -- but they are quite simply there to stay. When I turn the tap on to get a glass of water, these words pour out, and when I wake up in the morning, they are the first thing I hear. It is rather unpleasant, but also rather impressive that The Artems were able to sink such deep roots in the wilderness under my consciousness like that in such short time.
There were also songs about Romeo and Juliet, and about black Cadillacs. Great, great songs that were performed with so much energy that even the narcoleptics among the audience stayed awake during the show. And then there was a song that was, for want of a better word, a cover version of "We Go Together" from the classic film Grease, yet in a, to put it mildly, crazy version -- it was, in The Artems' own words: "a fanatic song".
And then suddenly, out of the blue, or maybe communist red, Chinese notes soared out from the speakers of the room. It was the only hourglass-shaped member of the band, Lai San, who felt we should hear some music from her home country. Bizarre, peculiar, and adorable -- for sure. Standing at her side, the Russian-born painter Artem was in constant movement. Either he "danced" like a ballerina, or he rocked from side to side like Richard Virenque heading up the steepest stretch of the Tour de France.
And then he also sang, and actually quite well -- at times. In the more ballad-like parts, his voice was not that strong, but when he rocked our socks off -- and he mostly did -- his voice was, in its own strange way, just the way you wanted, and hardly dared to dream of.
All in all, it was a funny-as-hell experience, not only in my opinion, but apparently in everybody else's. The Artems are definitely worth experiencing, I simply cannot wait until their next performance -- and then I will bring along everybody I know.
In brief: The Artems are Baal on laughing gas. Worth more than one experience.
Country
Christmas Island