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Minsk / М​и​н​с​к

by Sasha Ilyukevich & The Highly Skilled Migrants

/
1.
VISA My Friend Lived With The Dream To Step Across The Border, To See The Other Mores, To Try The Other Crossings. Once He Got Off The Plane, Surprising All The Democrats, He Was Told With No Explanation At The Cross-Border Cooperation – You Need A Visa. On The Return To His Homeland He Was Held By The Officer. The Officer Did Find The Common Dominator Between Them. The Officer Called My Friend A Traitor. In The Neurotic Eyes Of The Officer My Friend Had Read An Aphorism That Here People Like My Friend Need A Visa. Now My Friend Knows The Rules, The Officers Are Always Right, Our Leaders Receive Standing Ovation, But We Are Driven Behind The Scenes. And If You Feel Confused, Why Often Amongst Passerby You Are Only A Faceless Poster, I Shall Remind You Again, It Is All Because You Need A Visa.
2.
CHILDREN The Children Of Sturdy Temper Build Their Machines, They Call For Punishment, In The Name Of Their Emperor. At The Junction Of Quarrel And Offence, The Children Suffer From Thirst, Fluids Of What Happened Once Around Them Thrown Into Disorder. The Children Of Depleted Views Do Not Make Decisions For Themselves, They Are Irritably Satisfied With The Feed Of Constraint. For Long The Children Were Taught To Be Afraid To Breathe And Laugh, Through The Daytime, Openly In The Environs Of The Foreign Realm. The Children Of The Strained Humdrum Consciously Come Back To The Place, Always Jammed And Rowdy, The Service For The Shattered Religion. Surrounded By Bared Senses, Waste Of Desires and Pitfalls, Their Collective Phonogram Makes Them Hopeless And Empty. Escorted By The Feral Sailor, The Last Squad Run Away. Someone Was Rewarded For Lifting Their Shipwreck With The Trojan Rope. Encouraged By The Hyper System Of The Welfare State, The Children Hang Out The Flags, One More Time They Salute The Arrival Of Their Emperor.
3.
WHITENESS Blue Night Sinks Into The Weightless Milk, So Faraway, Apart. The Dark Defeated Pauses Beneath The Rise Of Grace, The Whiteness. The Moon Asleep. Who Keeps My Lore Awake? The Stars Go Blind In The Pursuit Of Mine. And I Go Lost, With No Intention, In The Expanse Of Eden. My Shore Glows With No Trace, Forsaken And Behind. I Sail As Though With Wings.
4.
KAMCHATKA Modern Age, Thus We Name Our Living Thread. We Are Bland With The Hate And Rage, We Are Ruled By The Bigoted Head. Through The Maze Of Bleak Streets We Erect A New Rampant Folly, Passing-By People Worship And Treat This Fake Ultramarine As Holy. There Our Life Is Mistaken, We Are Lost In The Malefic Bliss. Enough! To Kamchatka We Will Be Taken, The Land Of No Heaven And No Abyss. Our Industries Depend Often On Robust Second Class Hands, To Fulfil Our Comfort And Soften Our Scions Of Countless Demands. Gods And Goddesses Hide Away In Fear Seeing Our Callous Attack, Ahead, No More Roads For Us To Appear And There Is No Way To Get Back. Here Our Life Is Mistaken, We Are Lost In The Malefic Bliss. Enough! To Kamchatka We Will Be Taken, The Land Of No Heaven And No Abyss.
5.
REVELATION Sighing Leaves Swept By The Brush Of Winds, Raged In The Sky. Covetous Dogs Disarmed And Slay. Fire With More Fire. Arms Moan, Notions Torn. Flesh Against Flesh Thrown In The Heat. It Says The Curse Sways Through The Great Fire With More Fire. In The North Or The South Storms Stray, They Prey On Ugly Filthy Lies. Enmity Ends. Hearts Against Hearts Shiver. Pages Reek. Throngs Are In Wrath. Conceit Of Ours Is Shorn. We Fail, Fall, Dip To The Ravines. Sullen Crown Gleams Again. Thunder Mystery Shows The Door, The Way To No Home. The Truth Of Truths Is Tame And Soothes. Yet We Fall Into A Coma. No Man Asks How We Shall Overcome. Sham Heroes, Their Green Wounds Are Exposed. The Chasm Of Fatalism Turns Solid. The Dreams Of Patmos Are Bona Fide. The Dreams Of Patmos Are Bona Fide. More Fire
6.
HIERARCHY Fred The Dweller Close The Window There Is No Truth Dream Hunter I Need Your Love Emotion Machine Your Generator Is Empty Sucker For The Void My Voice Awaits More Wine The Guardian Of Z Is It A Tete-A-Tete? The Dome Of Trouble I Fear The Raven Night Turn On The Light The Traitor Of Z It Is So Desolate In Here Where Are You? Where Am I?
7.
BLACK Queen Mokosh Knocks On My Door, I Must See Her, But Tonight My Solitude Watched By The Beast, The Dark Angel In Flesh And Spirit. Behind, Explosions Of The Past, Clouds Of Trails, Smell Of Soot, Barefoot Dreams With Their Screams. I Blow Away The Glare Of The Stars, Fated To Be Outcast. This Time Becomes A Riotous Crier. This Is The Blackest Night, No Words Or Sounds, No Myths Of Falling, With No Touch To Break The Chains Of This Bleak Reverie. On Time I Gave Away The Regrets Of My Voice. I Took An Oath To Be Humble On Hedges Of The War. In Fear I Pulled The Trigger, I Made My Way Back To The Depth Of Worldliness. My Erebus Protects Its Peace, He Always Calls Check To My Queen Of Liberty. I Am A Pariah In The Eyes Of Blear Reason. I Lose My Hope To See You The King Of Kings. This Is The Blackest Night, No Words Or Sounds, No Myths Of Falling, With No Touch To Break The Chains Of This Bleak Reverie.
8.
COLD Cold On The Roads Of Haughty Spins. Cold On The Bridges Where Honesty Staggers. Cold In The Eyes Of Blind Sensations. Cold In The Hands Where Tenderness Breaks Down. Perfection Rushes Through, Either To Cry Or Laugh, Conscience Shakes The Earth, It Is Minus Twenty In My Soul. Now People Are Kinder To The Prey, Worthlessly Embellishing Their Faith. There Is One Amusing Custom, Get Rid Of Those Who Are Not At The Front Anymore. Tickets For The Shows Of Their Own Reflections Thrown Away Half Of Them Are Stories Of Haggard Misconceptions. Cold, Cold, Cold Age, This Age Is Cold. My Palms Are Frozen. In The Latest Chronicle Only Winds Roar And Moan. Cold, Cold, Cold Age, This Age Is Cold. Empty Visages In The Rooms I See Day And Night.
9.
IN DREAM One Of My Dearest Climes, Days, Alike Chewed Up Pages, With The Protest, Be Not Meek In Anxious Looks, Smoke In The Ash. More Brothers Of Small Towns On Guard, Far Sent By Their Chiefs, The Aliment Of Bluff. Thorn In The Side For Those Remaining, In Spite Of Their Suites Filled With Light, Pellucid Stigma, With Relish Burning In Lamps. Newborn Deception, Skinned And Naked, Peals Of The Ether Flushes With Lowing Reach Only Them. The Fated Cry Impairs Not Bragging In The Fleeting Nature, They Grant Libertine Fortune, Whose Garments Are In Fashion. The Cap, An Inviolable Abode, Made Of Betrayals And Rebukes, More Souls Anew To Be Divided Equitably, On Scales. The Idols Line Come Into View, Many A Time And On Demand, One Hand May Shudder At The Atrocity Of This Leprosy. The Possibility Detached From Merging With The Anaemic Rhyme, All Quests Lead To One Answer, We Are Only In A Dream.

about

An incomparable brew of post punk electric energy and topical lyricism, London-based Belarusian Troubadour Sasha Ilyukevich and his band 'The Highly Skilled Migrants’ continue to challenge the boundaries of non-English contemporary music. Their forthcoming album ‘Minsk’, released in November 2018, is a rebellious and defiant comment on political and social order in the Post-Soviet era.

Held under by the Kremlin and its imposed communist canons, Ilyukevich’s Motherland Belarus remains in the backwaters of public consciousness. Occasionally, news from Minsk streets about arrests of people protesting against the government might reach us. From this the capital of Europe’s Last Dictatorship a parallel newsfeed continues of the country’s so-called peacekeeping role between Russia and Ukraine. The censorship of political activists and artistic expression has become routine in Belarus. Minsk in particular has always been the epicentre of many movements challenging the state with voices against its established conditionality.

Ilyukevich on his new album: "With this record I offer my personal artistic outcry using Minsk as a prism to split the dislocated reality of the past, present, historical and social agenda of Belarus. My songs reflect the saturation by propaganda, controls of political powers and their direct impact on creating a philistine society. "Minsk" also is a microcosm of misinformation, which will be echoed across the media like a pandemic".

Many songs were revisited and finalised by Ilyukevich in early 2016 before a new line-up introduced heavier electric guitars and drums with experimental noise - all recorded at The Stables, London along with special guest pianist Andrey Novikov appearing on the last track 'In Dream', recorded by 'The Highly Skilled Migrants' at The Fish Factory.

Sasha Ilyukevich writes songs in Russian to capture the essence of Eastern-Slavic heritage but translates his lyrics into English to convey the ideas behind his songs and share the nuances of language and emotion. His songs fuse Western and Eastern-Slavic sensibilities to bridge a historical divide and engage understanding between two cultures to reverse prejudice between East and West.

Sasha Ilyukevich has been creating and performing music for the past 10 years. His songs often address political and social imbalances, particularly in the former-USSR. Ilyukevich’s first album ‘Ha Numa’ was banned from radio play in Belarus due to its perceived political subversion.

His music has received positive press support in the UK, featuring on BBC World Service and New Statesman. In addition, Sasha Ilyukevich & the Highly Skilled Migrants have a long history performing at ‘Dash Arts’ events, promoting international cultures in Britain. In 2016 the band was selected to play the BBC Introducing Stage at Latitude Festival, UK. Ilyukevich's songs have been also streamed on BBC Late Junction and Tom Robinson Radio Shows.


"Wow...Sasha Ilyukevich & the Highly Skilled Migrants...They're Something Else...and what a name!"
Max Reinhardt, Late Junction, BBC Radio 3

“Real discovery for me”
Tom Robinson, BBC Radio 6

****"A Genuine Individualist"****
CEEL (CENTRAL AND EASTERN EUROPEAN LONDON REVIEW)

"Utterly Compelling"
Morning Star (Socialist Daily Newspaper published in Great Britain)

“Transporting, Wild and Inspiring”
Clem Cecil, Pushkin House

“Exceptional Artist”
Josephine Burton, Dash Arts

credits

released November 6, 2018

Sasha Ilyukevich – Vocals, Guitars
Nathan Fustec – Lead Guitars, Synths, Noise
Murray McHattie – Bass Guitar
David Bryceland – Drums and Percussion

Special Guest:
Andrey Novikov - Piano

Music Arranged by Sasha Ilyukevich & The Highly Skilled Migrants

Recorded by The Highly Skilled Migrants at the Stables Studio, East Ham, London, UK
Apart from 'In Dream' - Recorded by The Highly Skilled Migrants at the Fish Factory Studio, Willesden, London, UK

Mix Engineers - Murray McHattie and Nathan Fustec,
Mixed at the Stables Studio, East Ham, London, UK

Mastered by Doctor Mix, London UK

Lyrics and Music by Sasha Ilyukevich
Apart from 'In Dream' - Music by Andrey Novikov and Sasha Ilyukevich

Artwork by Moi Tran
www.moitran.co.uk

Produced by Sasha Ilyukevich & The Highly Skilled Migrants
www.sashailyukevich.com / www.thehighlyskilledmigrants.com

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Sasha Ilyukevich & The Highly Skilled Migrants London, UK

London-based Belarusian troubadour Sasha Ilyukevich and his British band ‘The Highly Skilled Migrants’ create an incomparable brew of post punk electric energy and topical lyricism. Ilyukevich sings in Russian, his vocals swoop from soft whispered melodies to raucous screams, defying language barriers to deliver songs that are uplifting, intelligent, macabre, romantic and melancholic. ... more

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