Som Soi: Sentimental Killer Whales and “The Tenderest of Feelings”

The Moscow collective known as Som Soi barely exists. A handful of mp3s, a MySpace page, and a few phrases thrown around the web, sticking briefly to some concert announcements.  Even those textual snippets, designed to link the band to a fixed location and date, do little more than underline this ensemble’s fractured nature. “Som Soi consist of several people – a keyboard player who used to be in Banana Princess, plus the bass player and drummer from ‘Kislaia radost” [Bitter Joy aka "Sour and Joy"]. Then there’s a percussionist from ‘Iudezhezh‘ and a couple of singers: one of them’s big and the other one is small.”

As we see above; four or five people, all jumbled together and bundled up.

Whenever talk turns to the sounds these people make when they’re gathered together, the sense of organization is no greater: “Som soi embody a kind of happy madness. It’s wrapped up in a number of progressive styles.” It sounds as if a little management wouldn’t go amiss, but there’s nobody at the administrative helm. When asked to name their record label, for example, the band simply says they’re affiliated with some kind of “unregistered” organization. In other words, whatever the nature of their activity, it’s not recognized by a bureaucratic body. Som soi may consider themselves an orderly, ostensible unit – but the outside world does not agree.

This is an ensemble of loose arrangements, long hair, and baggy pants.

Not a straight line or reasonable trajectory in sight.

In this same spirit of mobocracy, a recent comment or two appeared on a blog in Moscow. It notes the atmosphere at a typical Som soi gig; it’s just as anarchic. The blogger in question describes an evening when he was sitting quietly at his table, enjoying a drink, and… “all of a sudden there was some kind of insane tsunami. We were only able to save ourselves from this elemental chaos called Som soi by grabbing all of our coffee cups and beer glasses. They were playing some MERCILESS music!!!” Alcohol is the only antidote to these “cruel” sounds, a discord emerging from the heart of disorder.

And yet, if we actually listen to one of the tracks, that alleged formlessness is not really evident. This first number, a semi-instrumental piece called “Kari,” initially adopts a stately pace, but at the two-minute mark, the vocal harmonies lapse into a trance-like mantra and by 2:45 the tempo has increased significantly. These are the sounds of a realm that could easily slip out on control.

“Kari” contains no apparent lyrics, a decision that hints at the incompatibility between the band’s modus operandi and the logic of proper syntax. The musicians of Som soi, trying not long ago to explain this disconnect, pointed out that somewhere in the on-stage topsy-turviness  are “some pretty melodies. They’re hidden away in female vocals that’re almost jazzy.” Prettiness and the equally appealing, voluntary movements of “something jazzy” both struggle to operate in an increasingly lawless “tsunami” of music.

Sometimes order can hold sway over the proceedings, sometimes not. Unpredictability and anxiety are uppermost.

It seems reasonable to assume that these increasing references to maritime disorder lie behind the band’s imagery, in particular their PR-pictures of freshwater fishes and deep-sea monsters. There’s a special affinity for killer whales. The song below is named after that monochrome mammal. Even more specifically, the whale shown above in the band’s most frequently used promo-image is shedding tears directly onto Som soi. One of the biggest, most dangerous beasts of the planet’s oceans is saddened by a force greater than itself. Both musically and visually, therefore, Som soi are again invoking some ubiquitous bedlam that denies even the strongest, most assured individuals an opportunity for happy law and order.

The laughter of mental instability ensues. Any sense of manageable harmony in “Kari” is ending.

So how exactly does all of this look on stage? What aspects of the live performance would lead nervous viewers to reach for their beer? When the band members list their responsibilities on that stage, i.e., the rules they should be following(!), nobody seems tied to one particular instrument. Som soi document the fact that during gigs, a guitarist will play not only his allotted guitar, for example, but might just as easily drift across the proscenium and stumble across another, equally appealing noise-making device.

Consequently, we’re left with the impression that everybody is running back and forth between each other’s tools, trying to find the right noises that will give voice to (or restrain!) a surrounding, oceanic bedlam. Officially the members of Som soi are “Elena Pustova (on keyboards, etc…); Evgenii Mel’nikov (drums, etc…); Viktor Dryzhov (bass, etc….); Oksana Tropina (vocals, etc…); and Elena Azanova (more vocals, etc…)” The use of ellipses after everybody’s name merely suggests that these shows always have the potential to go on a little longer – in other words to never (ever!) end.

Thus far, to put things simply, we have seen nothing more from Som Soi than a few promo-phrases, the imagery of watery voids, and an on-stage work ethic that has little time for tidiness. In even simpler terms, we’re dealing with very little form – and potentially infinite fragments. All of these textual tidbits and “fishy” hint at some surrounding unruliness languish in the web’s endless expanse… until, without warning, a Live Journal account floats to the surface.

Unannounced and unadvertised, one of the band’s vocalists – Lena Azanova (below) – has compiled a diary with over a thousand posts.  It is prefaced by a tiny sketch in her User’s Profile. Translated, it reads: “Don’t abuse my heart; it’s too small… and could easily drown. So far in life, I can say that a friendship with me has never led to anything good. Or maybe, on occasion, it has…? I love songs, too… ”

Worrying that her emotions might “drown” in the chaos of the social existence, Azanova plays the role of a reverse Siren, almost, singing songs to those who pass – so they might steer clear of danger! She positions herself as an emotional lighthouse, sending out signals loud and clear to save others from her own “fate.” What, though, is being validated so highly as to warrant these songs and diaries, full of lachrymose whales and emotional sea wrecks?

Azanova throws down a muddled list of her likes and loves at the start of her diary. These are the fleeting places of consolation for someone tossed back and forth by life’s breakers (the original list is in Russian): “Animal Jazz, anime, manga, Miami Scissors, Vladivostok, Gorod 312, MONEY!!!, Lenochka, New Zealand, anime, billiards, biology, beads, blues, a beard, nonsense, bread and cheese, the wind, wine, magic, imagination, paper cutouts, hills, hot chocolate, cooking, pomegranates, giving people presents, giving people cheesecake, childhood, designs, goodness, my soul, breathing, his hands, animals, life, aromas, sounds, green eyes, winter, cyberpunk, books, cats, pretty girls, wings, the woods, ice cubes, love, people, a small dark room, manga, tangerines, mollusks, silence, the sea, meat, neko ears, socks, The Noob, solitude, him, origami, friendships, spiders, singing, singing outdoors, stripes, tomatoes, transparent dice, pudding, journeys, happiness, drawing, silver, listening, laughing, texting, sunbeams, fish soup, soul music, spleen, magazine articles, style, quiet summer evenings, working out, taking photos, photo-cross, flowers, evenings that are barely warm, scarves, emotions, and Japan…”

The list maps out inconstant, anxious attempts by one young woman to anchor herself.

The most important object of her desire – and therefore the raison d’etre of Som soi’s songs – can be found a little deeper into the same site. Azanova works, it would seem, as a photographer; in essence, her Live Journal pages act as a portfolio. Much of her time is clearly spent recording wedding ceremonies and when Azanova uploads the images, she frequently adds a comment or two. Despite the stunning noise of a Som soi concert, despite the metaphors of topsy-turvy disarray  that surround their music, one of the band’s vocalists finds a rare sense of peace and quiet at these weddings. Her posted remarks are surprisingly romantic; not in the sense of Som soi’s heady passions, but expressed in a different register of modest, almost inaudible sentiment.

Look, for example, at the image above, taken at a recent event. Azanova adds the following scribble: “I liked this bride very much. She’s a kind of Gothic doll, almost. Somebody from an anime film. She admitted to me that she has never considered herself pretty, and doesn’t know how to pose for a photographer. Everything she did was accompanied by a shy, unassuming smile. She left me with the tenderest of feelings…”

Fueled by this unvoiced, though evident respect for childlike virtues, the anxiety in Som soi’s songwriting becomes clearer. The band’s music is driven by a sense of consolation – either following the loss of some “anime-like” innocence or before a pressing need to defend it.

This is the music of mutual support.

In a world that can so easily throw everything off kilter and toss Gothic dolls back and forth across waves of worry, any fish venturing out into the bottomless pit of the open seas needs to be wary. The picture below is extremely telling in terms of how Som soi view that venture.  Knives, shovels, axes, hammers, and an oar. Heaven knows what’s out there, but this individual has all he done he can to prepare for the worst.

The crescent moon rises and the worry begins…

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PS: Having published this article, we were pleasantly surprised when the band contacted us and added all kinds of extra information, making future searches a lot simpler. We’ve translated the basic details below.

The band members are:

Zhenia Mel’nikov

http://vkontakte.ru/id19730646
http://shabt.livejournal.com/profile

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Vitia Dryzhov

Also organizer of a festival dedicated to experimental music. Participants come from towns all around Russia: “The Sur & Joy Fest.” He is also involved in a number of related projects, which can be followed at these links:

http://vkontakte.ru/id763304
http://vkontakte.ru/club7589056
http://vkontakte.ru/club381833
http://vkontakte.ru/club7473828
http://vkontakte.ru/club9014999
http://users.livejournal.com/_krotus_/

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Lena Pustova

Works as an animator (http://zlec.livejournal.com/92777.html?nc=18) when not busy with the Som Soi keyboards. The band maintains that many of their compositions begin with a basic motif worked out by Lena… who can also be seen from time to time behind the drums.

http://vkontakte.ru/id2849613
http://vkontakte.ru/club454428
http://community.livejournal.com/bnn_prncss/profile

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Oksana Tropina

http://zlec.livejournal.com/
http://vkontakte.ru/id3712353
http://www.flickr.com/photos/oksanatropina/collections/

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Plus “Sasha and Misha,” who do not work with the band on a permanent basis. In closing, some more images: http://www.flickr.com/photos/daniladanila/sets/72157616655139143/