Issue #09/64, May 6 - 20, 1999  

It is certainly ironic that just as NATO jets are bombing Russia's Slavic brothers in Yugoslavia, forcing thousands of warmonger Serbs to hide in bomb shelters, Moscow should see the star-studded opening of the newest, most popular club to hit central Moscow, Club Bunker. As in, "bunker"-or, bomb shelter. As I've said so often in this column, I wholeheartedly support NATO's actions. Although I'm normally on the liberal-left end of the centrist spectrum, this is one war that I fully support and, by adding my weight to it in this column, I see myself as having a hand, however humble, in the war effort. For, this is a just war, one that NATO is winning and will win, despite the propaganda spewed out of this newspaper. NATO has the time, the resources, and the commitment to bring the Yugoslav thugs to their senses, whether from the air or on the ground, and to believe otherwise is sheer tomfoolery.

Unfortunately, this makes for a fairly volatile situation here in Moscow for foreigners. My girlfriend Amy is still in Canada waiting it out, although I won't say exactly in which city out of respect for her privacy and to protect her from potential Russian ultra-nationalist terrorists, a threat neither of us take lightly. As I reported last issue, we were subjected to repeated harassment bordering on violence by taxi drivers and others who asked us why NATO was bombing Serbia. I am not ashamed to admit that I have been missing Amy terribly, and I hope to save up enough money by the end of next week to come visit her. We have only spoken twice, the second time briefly, since she left town. I understand that she's trying to save money, and that she's been over her head in work. Even when I call her at her mother's house on weekend nights, she's not at home. But all of this will soon blow over, I'm sure. In truth, she still hasn't grown used to my writing for the eXile or reading articles in which a small part of our private life is part of public record. But she knows that I'd never get too personal with our lives, and she's making progress. Hey, at least she's gotten over the stage of making me sleep on the couch!

In the meantime, I'm keeping myself busy as Moscow's leading source for nightlife action with a social conscience. I guess in that sense, mixing light fun with serious issues that affect us all, I see myself as sort of the Chris Floyd (whom I always enjoy reading) of this newspaper, only I can't say I possess his rare gift of flair and alliteration.

So let me just give you the plain facts about Bunkr. In short, it's doomed to succeed, despite being located at the cursed Tverskaya 13 address. Bunkr has several reasons to feel confident. In the first place, it has the name. In the early 90s, Bunker, along with the Sexton Club, was Moscow's top rock club. While Sexton was more biker-oriented, Bunker attracted a younger, grungier crowd ranging from punks to rockers to students. By '96, techno culture had pretty much won over the Russian youth, and both clubs were history.

But now, with the tedious tunes of techno tumbling (hey Chris, didja see that?!) faster than you can say "GKO", classic rock and roll is making a comeback, even here in Moscow. And that's the second reason why Bunker is a winner. Bunker will feature live music almost every night, with bands ranging from alternative (Alexei Paperny, Blast) to pop (Masha I Medvedy, one of Amy's favorites). This is a more mature Bunker, growing up along with its public, catering to a somewhat older and more civilized crowd (average age of twenty-five, making me feel more comfortable). Add into this winning stew the super-duper cheap drinks (beer starts at 40R, vodka at 25R) and cheap food (from 20R to 80R), and the central location, and you can bet that, even in the hostile post-crisis environment, Bunker is going to be high on many people's list.

It's not all perfect, of course. The design is more Four Rooms-y than rock club-ish. It's divided into three room, none of which is particularly large. The interior is simple: white-painted walls, simple furniture. For the opening party, all sorts of "in" crowd Russians were there to celebrate. At one point, I was cornered by a guy in horned-rimmed glasses caked in white makeup, with a tall artistic hat and a strange costume.

I thought he would be interesting to talk to so I asked him, "Have you ever seen the Woody Allen movie 'Sleepers'?"

"What?" he replied.

"Sleepers. It's a famous Woody Allen movie that takes place in the future. You look a lot like Woody in it, when he's a robot in the future."

"I am the famous avant-garde designer Andrei Barentyev," he snapped. I knew where this was leading: straight to Kosovo, and why NATO troops were bombing Yugoslavia. He asked me to go to the bathroom with him, but, just as the Canadian Embassy advised in such situations, I quickly excused myself, and, without making a big scene, made for the door.

It's too bad that a Russian chauvinist had to spoil the party, because I know Bunker is the type of club both Amy and I could enjoy over and over, and when she returns here, it'll be high on our list. In fact, I returned this past Sunday to see Alexei Paperny & Band, one of the few artists where I and the eXile editors meet taste-wise. There was a solid crowd of youngish Russian professionals living through their Middle Youth, as I like to call it.

They do plan on starting to charge a cover soon, but it won't be any higher than, say, clubs like Svalka. Hopefully that won't thin the crowds too much. With the recent opening of the dance club Virus and now Bunker, it's looking like the supposed death of Moscow's nightlife scene is actually the birth of something more mature, civilized and, dare I say, Canadian (I know certain readers will freak out at me for saying this). In this new, grown-up Moscow, I predict that there will be less stress on the vulgar, sexist "fahkie-factor" and more on the basics of good music, interesting people, and yes, couples. Are you listening, Amy?