Mullumbimby's 'Russians' in good voice

Mullumbimby's 'Russians' in good voice

A rare piece of cheerful news comes from the unlikely locale of Mullumbimby, a small Australian town in New South Wales where 28 middle-aged bearded Aussies have formed a choir, singing only traditional Russian folk and marching songs. They call themselves "Dustyesky", dress as Russian workers in cloth caps and cheekily refer to their town as Mullumgrad. Calling themselves a "fake genuine Russian choir", their stirring rendition of the Song of the Volga Boatmen is something to behold.

None of them speak the language, although their leader manages a passable faux Russian accent. As for their voices, a third are said to be decent singers, another third can "hold a tune" while the rest are simply good guys to have a drink with. The drink is usually vodka, which can take quite a hammering after performances.

Formed in 2014, their recent shows in Australia went viral and were picked up by Russian television and to their surprise the choir now has millions of Russian fans. It is believed to be the first time the name "Mullumbimby" has ever been mentioned on Russian airwaves. A Russian choir was so impressed they made a special take of Waltzing Matilda and sent it to the Aussies.

To their amazement, the Aussie choir was invited by the Russian Ministry of Culture to perform at a concert in Red Square at this year's May 9 Victory Parade. Alas they were stuffed by the pandemic and everything was called off.

Dustyesky have since invited Russian President Vladimir Putin to "Mullumgrad" to say "G'day" to the locals, partake of a few "tinnies" and perhaps get the balalaikas out.

Back in the USSR

Hopefully the Dustyesky choir will eventually make it to Red Square. I even got there once but refrained from singing Russian folk songs. In fact the only Russian-related music I knew were Midnight in Moscow, Back in the USSR and From Russia With Love.

It was 1977, back in the Cold War days of Leonid Brezhnev and I must admit to getting quite a buzz while standing in Red Square even though it was raining hammers and sickles. I had only seen the place before on grainy TV newsreels of massive Victory Day parades with the square awash with soldiers, tanks and missiles. Simply standing there you could sense the powerful history the square had witnessed over the years.

Unfortunately my head could also sense the aftermath of the previous night's ill-advised vodka session with a couple of hotel security guards. That "Stoli" stuff definitely had a bit of bite.

Life's soundtrack

Like many people, I find music therapeutic, particularly in these strange times. My CD collection -- yes, I'm still in the Stone Age when it comes to listening to music -- has been getting quite a workout recently, although sadly I can't recall coming across any Russian marching songs.

It's almost become a daily routine. In the morning after a quick listen to the increasingly depressing news, the TV is switched off and on come the CDs. I'm transported into a completely different world that has never heard of social distancing, super-spreaders, contact tracing, quarantine or Boris Johnson. For this I thank Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Pink Floyd, the Beatles, the Animals, Chaka Khan, Bob Dylan and even the Mamas and the Papas, remember them? Then there's Marvin Gaye, whose soulful What's Going On seems particularly relevant after the past week's events.

Sublimely awful

If you really want cheering up I recommend listening to the World's Worst Orchestra, otherwise known as the Portsmouth Sinfonia. It was formed in 1975 by students and an important requirement was that no member was proficient in their chosen instrument. Real musicians were only allowed to perform on instruments they had never played before.

Their first public performance, featuring something resembling the William Tell Overture, proved a great success. You can hear their wonderful Classical Muddley on YouTube. It is inspired musical insanity and will brighten up your day. One reviewer wrote: "An atrocious record by an atrocious orchestra. It is, quite frankly, sublime."

Time for a cuppa

Thanks to readers who pointed out the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II was on June 2 and not June 3 as I incorrectly wrote last week.

I really ought to know that because it was one of the first times I ever watched television. Like many British households my parents bought their first TV in 1953 to watch the coronation.

We lived in a cul-de-sac of 16 houses and ours was one of the few with a TV. I recall half the neighbourhood piling into the living room to watch the proceedings on our proud new possession -- a 12-inch Bush in all its glory.

It was black-and-white so we had to close all the curtains to keep the daylight out and ensure we could follow proceedings.

Despite there being no colour, the golden carriage still looked like something out of a fairytale.

Unfortunately for my mum she missed a lot of the pageantry, spending most of the time in the kitchen making cups of tea and sandwiches for our assorted guests.


Contact PostScript via email at oldcrutch@hotmail.com

Roger Crutchley

Bangkok Post columnist

A long time popular Bangkok Post columnist. In 1994 he won the Ayumongkol Literary Award. For many years he was Sports Editor at the Bangkok Post.

Email : oldcrutch@gmail.com

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