Posts Tagged ‘deviation’

Belarusian punk band members arrested for participating in an illegal rally.

February 15, 2010

Belarusian-language sources report that around 40 members of the Sayuz Palyakaw (which represents the country’s ethnic Polish minority and is not recognised by the authorities) were arrested on February 15 for participation in an illegal rally in Hrodna on February 10, 2010 which protested the treatment of the Polish minority and commemorated the 70th anniversary of deportation of the Polish inhabitants of Western Belarus to Siberia after it was occupied by the Soviet Army at the start of WWII. Apparently the activists were on their way to the town of Valozhin where a court case related to the grievances of the local Polish community was to be heard today.
Those arrested include the organisation’s Head Council chairman Andrei Pachobut and its press secretary Ihar Bantsar who were both sentenced to five days in gaol for their part in the action. Right after being sentenced Bantsar declared a hunger strike demanding to be released.
Pachobut used to be a bass player in the anarchist punk band DEVIATION which his brother Stas fronts. Bantsar is a singer with the Hrodna streetpunk band MISTER X.




January 7, 2008

OK, I’m back from Belarus.

One of the highlights has been seeing the country’s oldest anarchist punk band, DEVIATION, in their hometown of Hrodna – at the (kinda) legendary “Shit Sound Shock Club” at that! It’s actually just a garage, but crammed full of a few dozen punks it did feel like the total overthrow of the system is due tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. At least according to the band’s singer Stas Poczobut. They only had time for a couple of new songs, one of which was a Belarussian-language version of “Your Dad’s A Fascist” by 1980s Leningrad new wave band TELEVIZOR. The additional joke is that Belarussian president Lukashenka is commonly referred to as “Dad.” The rest were tried and true hits that everyone sang along to. Not only DEVIATION has pretty catchy tunes – particularly when they hit the folk-punk stride – but the lyrics are, if you ask for my opinion, among the best ever in the ex-USSR anarcho scene.

The band had recorded three full-length tapes. Their first – “Lukaschenko Uber Alles” – was reissued in Poland as a split tape with fellow Hrodna folk-punkers KALIYAN. Four songs off of the second one, “Khui Vam, Abo Tatalitaryzm Nya Proidze!” (“Fuck You, or, Totalitarianism Shall Not Pass!”), were released in France as a mini-CD. Their last one yet, “Guerrilla Urbana,” was also issued on CDR.

DEVIATION in St. Petersburg, 2003.

You can download all the songs here:

I’d recommend first checking out “Police Terror (To Kill A Cop)”, “Fuck You!” and “Guerrilla Urbana” to get some flavour of each respective album.

And to get some idea of what the lyrics are about, “Ustup” (“Introduction”) from “Guerrilla Urbana” goes like this (my knowledge of Belarussian is shaky at best, so I used Russian translation for backing):

They have a ball there. Tail-coats, all you can eat, expensive dresses. They shoot. The champagne corks fly up. There’s an echo for every banging sound. The echo is machine gun shots at the rebels’ villages. For justice, freedom, independence. Sand falls on the coffins in Kurdistan. The dream of freedom burns like a man in Tibet, and same old Mao grins from posters. Hope that the life is better somewhere else. Belief and certainty in the victory of good over evil. And Ulrike falls asleep with a cigarette in her hand. This is her last night of freedom. The state is a group of people surrounded by barbed wire. All the troubles, as usual, are blamed on “strangers,” but it’s very seldom that I feel one of our own. Red cord goes to the detonating fuse, green one goes to the alarm-clock. After the work, consume and puke and wipe your mouth with a Fidel Castro portrait. Che Guevara TM. Thrown-up Karl Marx. Totalitarian love somewhere between perversion and farce. One more drop and it would be too much. The capital city greets us with a colonial McDonald’s. Whenever you drink your bloody Coca-Cola, remember the mid-1980s and the unemployed Filipinos. The drunken guerilla. The revolution hasn’t succeeded once again. Yet another Carlos Marighella dies of OD. Is that what it’s worth fighting for? Is this a struggle or just pomposity and fucking pose? The grey masses that flow towards factories in the morning. Yet another celebration of intolerance on Friday night. Parasitic love for workers from those who have never worked is opposed by the proletarian ghetto’s inhabitants’ desire to turn bourgeois. The celebration as ordered by the president and the national congress. Everybody should have fun tomorrow between 6 p.m. and midnight! The money stolen from our purses again go to pay salaries for the KGB and police. A phone conversation. The Committee has bugged us again. Yet another mark on the margins in the personal dossier. The desires that bring to life a clenched fist grow wings and fly away with time. The sighs about May ’68 in Paris. Lamentation of a pessimist: “We’re never gonna have it like this.” We’re not! If we’d keep sitting around in the kitchen. Until the courage returns, nothing’s gonna happen! For freedom, equality, brotherhood! The choice is yours. To be with us, not to participate or to be against us. For tolerance, independence, sisterhood! The World War Four had started!!!