Volga Noire

Repertoire

1. I

   Scream My Name

   Overture · Bank or cell

   Two lines that hold the whole record: play along and you ride to the bank; refuse and you scream all the way to prison.

   Lyrics

   I'll sing your name all the way to the bank
   You'll scream my name all the way to prison.

   There's no time
   There's no time
   Like the first time in jail
   There's a new kind of hell
   Waiting in your cell
   But they'll treat you well

2. II

   Vanessa in Leather

   Power as fetish · The Politburo

   Colonel Vanessa Leibovich runs the Politburo like a dominatrix runs a room. The night ends with a black Volga idling outside and a one-way ticket East.

   Lyrics

   Comrade in Leather

   She has the Politbureau lined up like cats at her toes,
   Ah, Vanessa.
   And with a crack of the whip she makes the politruks weep,
   Oh, Vanessa.
   She took me out for a spin and promised stern discipline,
   Vanessa.
   If Lenin's statue had eyes, he'd see the Red Paradise
   In Vanessa.

   She drops her blue overalls, because again duty calls,
   Vanessa.
   And with her boots of vinyl it feels like time's standing still,
   Vanessa.
   Every comrade in power was scheduled by the hour,
   Vanessa.
   Today she helps redefine official party line,
   VANESSA.

   Leibovich Vanessa, to what I owe the pleasure?
   I swear on Lenin's grave I did not misbehave.
   It's time to pay the big price
   And undo all of the lies, Vanessa.

   If comrade Lenin could see
   You're working and you're classy, Vanessa,
   And from your eyes' fiery glow
   I can tell where this will go, Vanessa.
   I kinda fear the outcome,
   But what was done is now done, Vanessa.

   Leibovich Vanessa, who turns pain into pleasure,
   Up here, in your tower, each second seems an hour.
   Polkovnik Leibovich Vanessa, a comrade dressed in leather,
   I swear by Lenin's grave, I did not misbehave.

   A Volga's waiting outside, and I have nowhere to hide, Vanessa.
   And I can see that it's black, that means there's no coming back, Vanessa.
   They're shipping me to the East, to see how long I resist, Vanessa,
   And as far as I can tell, no one returns from that hell, Vanessa.

   
3. III

   Ballad of the Lone Smuggler

   Folk hero · The Black Sea

   Captain Mirko Radić runs Western contraband across the Black Sea to feed the people's appetite for the forbidden. Freedom as cargo — and a rookie on patrol who cannot catch him.

   Lyrics

   The fog was thick, the wind blew cold,
   The waves were ten foot high,
   But Captain Mirko Radić is not afraid to die.
   He never cared for Lenin,
   But he serves the proletars,
   And the comrades in Odessa
   Need whiskey and cigars.

   The blue jeans are from London, the carpets from Iran,
   The video recorders are all "Made in Japan",
   Chewing gum and perfumes, some nylons for madame,
   And dirty magazines, he picked in Amsterdam.

   The ship trails to the horizons,
   Witnessed only by the stars,
   Mirko Radić pushes onwards,
   He must serve the proletars.

   Just north of the Sulina Bar, some rookie on patrol
   Got lucky, saw the smuggler ship and then he tried to board.
   He locked it on the radar and loaded all the guns
   And gave the order "fire" as Mirko tried to run.

   He can almost taste the bullets
   As he sails across the ice,
   While the coast guards fail to grab him —
   That alone is worth the price.

   Legend says that he's still sailing,
   Witnessed only by the stars,
   And he leaves in the marina
   Presents for the proletars.
   Washed ashore, in foggy mornings,
   Packs of whiskey and cigars —
   Then you know that Mirko Radić
   And his boat cannot be far.

   
4. IV

   Svetlana the Thief

   Odessa underworld · Where did you go?

   Svetlana and Kalina, two women of the port — love and theft and disappearance. "Where did you go?" is the album's elegy for everyone the Volga swallowed.

   Lyrics

   Svetlana the thief was amazing,
   In Odessa she became legend.
   If she put eyes on you, there was nothing to do —
   Your wallet was gonna take damage.

   Where did you go, Svetlana?
   Stop acting like some primadonna.
   When a woman says no, then you have to let go —
   You let go, but don't really wanna.

   She had a big crush on Kalina,
   Who sold charms at the marina.
   Every matros in town spent his pennies and pounds
   For a taste of… you know what I mean, yeah?

   Where did you go, Kalina?
   Did you think that your love was forbidden?
   You don't let a poor girl chase you around the world
   And then diss her and call her a sinner.

   Kalina ran off with some killer
   Who came from the port of Brăila.
   She now lives the life of a decent housewife
   Who cooks delicious dinners.

   Svetlana, well, she went to prison,
   And that is the last she was heard of.
   The wind and the sea told her story to me —
   Spare a kopek, for bread and some tea?

   Where did you go, Svetlana?
   Where did you go, Svetlana?
   La-la-la-la la-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la-la.
   Where did you go, Kalina?
   Where did you go, Kalina?
   La-la-la-la la-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la-la.

   
5. V

   Alcohol and Tobacco

   Confession · Komsomol to Kolyma

   A life told in three loyal vices — from a Komsomol boyhood, through middle-aged hypocrisy, to a Siberian cell where you'd sell out anyone for a sip and a smoke.

   Lyrics

   [ Lyrics coming soon. ]

   
6. VI

   Bridge of Spies

   Cold War torch song · The exchange

   Two agents who once met in Sweden, meeting one last time at the checkpoint with empty pistols and nothing left to declassify. Acoustic guitar and cello.

   Lyrics

   You must pretend we never met before,
   That time in Sweden doesn't count at all.
   Stay cold just like this crazy war,
   Then pass me by — I cannot offer more.

   Like grains of sand in different hourglasses,
   We'll share a second, then the second passes.
   And when our lives will be declassified,
   They'll know — but then we'll all have died.

   Meet me at the bridge of spies tonight,
   I hope you went through every single lie.
   What's wrong to you by me appears just right,
   This might be our funeral, so let's act professional tonight.

   It's not a secret if it comes alive,
   So our past will die with us tonight.
   My empty Walther for your broken Glock —
   This time it seems we're truly out of luck.

   Meet me at the bridge of spies tonight,
   I hope you meant your every single lie.
   We'll soon be nameless stars on distant walls,
   So let's do something sensible.
   Pretend we never — never met before.

   Meet me at the bridge of spies tonight,
   I hope you went through every single lie.
   What's wrong to you by me appears just right,
   This will be our funeral, so let's act professional tonight.

   
7. VII

   Juergen's Wedding Day

   Blackest comedy · DDR, March 1953

   A wedding in the DDR on 5 March 1953. Mid-vows, word arrives that Stalin has died, and the reception is declared a state-mandated wake.

   Lyrics

   I had never wanted to get married,
   Trudi was antipatriarchat,
   But in March of '53, I don't know what came to me,
   Because we agreed to go and tie the knot, knot, knot.

   We said "JA" and everyone was cheering
   When a Soviet soldier rushed inside.
   He said, "Comrades, please be strong,
   And I pray that I am wrong,
   But the Captain told me Comrade Stalin died."

   "Party's over," said the Bürgermeister,
   "There's mourning all across the DDR,
   And tell the marching band to play songs that are sad,
   For Stalin died on Juergen's wedding day, yeah, yeah, yeah."

   As we drank, the marching band played dirges,
   The wedding party was declared a wake
   By mayoral decree, posted out for all to see,
   That Stalin died on Juergen's wedding day.

   Wir brauchten kein Geschenk, 'cause we wrote on a Soviet tank
   That Stalin died on Juergen's wedding day.

   
8. VIII

   Funeral Groove

   The thematic centre · A wake you can dance to

   A Romanian wake nobody can quite name the deceased of — but the ciorbă is ready, the priest is drunk, and the cats are already on the table.

   Lyrics

   [ Lyrics coming soon. ]

   
9. IX

   Big Man of KGB

   The man with the file · Eternal

   The secret policeman who has your file, outlives every regime, and re-emerges to "make the Union great again." Surveillance as forever; tyranny as rebranding.

   Lyrics

   I am big man of KGB,
   Since at least 1983.
   I know you better than yourself —
   Your friends and neighbors sure did help.
   I love my country more than you,
   And in this file there is the proof.
   Now sit down and pick up that pen
   And write me something of your friend.

   I am man of KGB,
   I am man of KGB,
   I am man of KGB.
   Прости меня.

   You won't be going никуда,
   Evropa or Amerika.
   If you insist, it's Колыма.
   I'm still man of KGB.
   Now I control the industry,
   Media and economy —
   Such power is insanity.

   Once again I'll help a comrade and a friend,
   I'll give him everything I can
   To make the Union great again.

   I am man of KGB,
   I am man of KGB,
   I am man of KGB,
   I was and always will be.

   Enjoying your democracy?
   It doesn't look that great to me.
   Oh baby please, won't you come over for a squeeze —
   I promise not to pull your teeth.

10. X

    I Hope They Nail You

    The mask off · Curse for a demagogue

    The album drops the period costume and gets contemporary: a furious curse for the populist who cosplays revolution while building a police state.

    Lyrics

    I hope they nail you, I hope they nail you,
    I hope they nail you, I hope they nail you (hey, hey, hey, hey).

    You should have stayed in village, 'cause it sure stayed in your genes —
    Your number one opponent is personal hygiene.

    I hope they nail you, I hope they nail you,
    I hope they nail you for this shit.

    You speak of revolution and preach we should be free,
    But your only solution: increase security.

    I hope they nail you, I hope they nail you,
    I hope they nail you for this shit.

    I see you talk at rallies and praise dictatorship —
    I'd send you back in time to try some of that shit.
    I hope you die a thousand deaths in pain and agony,
    But until then, I'll tell you what, a promise made from me:

    I'm gonna nail you, I'm gonna nail you,
    I'm gonna nail you for this shit.
    I'm gonna nail you, I'm gonna nail you,
    I'll make you burn in hell for this.

11. XI

    Onwards to Siberia

    The encore · Meet the band

    Misha breaks the fourth wall, introduces the band one exile at a time, notes that the FSB now knows exactly who to look for — and dedicates the last song to your hearts.

    Lyrics

    I am told by our manager that we have five more minutes on stage. Yeah — the man in the back looking like новый русский. He says it's in the contract, so let's not waste Moscow taxpayer money, right?

    Before we go, I'll introduce the band.

    On drums: Boris, from Bulgaria. He grows his own drumsticks.
    On accordion and vocals: the talented Svetlana, thief of hearts, from Odessa. Where did you go, Svetlana?
    On cello: Miss Klava, from Serbia. My girlfriend. She didn't sleep with anyone for the job, ok?
    On contrabass: the ever-resourceful Szandor. From Hungary, but we love him anyway.
    On balalaika: the wise Sasha, from Kishinev, Moldova. Now in Romania.
    On the trumpet: I don't know his real name, but we call him FRITZ, from East Germany. The best musician to jump over the Berlin Wall — both ways.
    And finally, on vocals: Misha Medved, from Romania, the dark mastermind behind Volga Noire.

    Now that the FSB knows who to look for, let's finish the job with one song that will get to your hearts.

12. XII

    Legend of the Rookie Coast Guard

    The closer · No one in, no one out

    Back to the rookie from the Smuggler's ballad — now we hear his orders. A young lieutenant who traded his conscience for a cozy life, told to seal the border against jeans, John Wayne, poetry and free thought. The guitar stops mid-sentence, like a door.

    Lyrics

    No one in,
    No one out.
    Not from north,
    Not from south,
    Not from east,
    Oh, and not from west.
    There's your orders —
    Do your best.

    Do it for your cozy life,
    For your kid and your young wife.
    You made младший лейтенант,
    Now you serve the motherland.

    No subversive меньшевик,
    No progressive politics,
    No whiskey, no rock'n'roll —
    You have orders, stop them all.

    Go defend all that exists
    From those corrupt capitalists.
    You swore an oath before the flag —
    All those who fail end in Gulag.

    No blue jeans, and no John Wayne,
    Books that make you go insane,
    No decadent lingerie,
    No American poetry.
    No free thinking,
    No dissent —
    You must serve
    Your Motherland.

    No one in,
    No one out.
    No one in,
    No one out.
    No one in,
    Oh, and no one out.