Der Untermost, or the Day the Shitty Techno Died

The global economic meltdown has claimed another subset of victims -- Moscow elitny clubgoers. At least that's according to the Telegraph, which reported of a half-empty Most. Even if it's not entirely true, when the golden club is letting in pasty British reporters, that's a sure sign times have changed.

Falling into conversation with one patron, an impeccably dressed man in his late thirties who introduced himself as the owner of another nightclub, I asked him where everybody was.

"They are sitting at home drinking cheap vodka and thinking about killing themselves," he replied.

In other words, doing what MDBIT does on Friday nights anyway. The reports of Moscow nightlife's death have been greatly exaggerated though. While the $32,000 VIP booth above the waterfall at Rai may be going at a slight discount, there's no shortage of people lining up for 800 ruble Long Islands at The Most, as these photos from October 3 contest.


What do you think: is this self-delusion or deserved confidence? Are they playing the fiddle while Moscow burns, or just trying to have fun after a £400 billion stock market dive?

Yaaaaaaaa! Kill it! Kill it!

To be honest, it kinda reminds me of the last days in Hitler's bunker. But if the world capital of excess goes on the dole, what are all of us parasitic nightlife bloggers going to do? Move to Istanbul and start ghostwriting college apps for rich kids? Waaaaaaa!

Photos: mainpeople.ru

A Return to Modesty

Watching the Moscow nightlife scene has always been morbidly fascinating, like watching a large bruise change colors, but this current shade of yellow-green is particularly unbecoming. What happened? Is this the last stage on Moscow's teleological journey? Before it goes straight? Before it abandons pleasuring you in the bathroom for high-necklines and non-alcoholic beers, like the rest of the world?

I'm talking, of course, about the advent of The MOST and Soho Rooms. These places, now dominating the elitny nightlife scene, are cast from the same mold: sophisticated, uber-exclusive pick-up joints that cut out all of the fun stuff, namely lasers, midgets, glitter and hoochies a go-go. The MOST boasts a "no hos" door policy and Soho Rooms claims not to be interested in anyone under 25.

It seems reasonable that oligarchs don't want to wade through all the carnival trash and tubby Americans before they find a diamond. But that's all the fun. Sure, you can meet Roman Abramovich at The Most. But will you be able to wear your favorite FM boots? No, sister.

After a few raspberry cordials, a tender embrace with a bosom buddy at Soho Rooms gets out of hand.

It's not like the options are getting better. For the girls, that is. Rather, it's stripped the fabulously degenerate, all-or-nothing club scene to its most basic porportions: smokin' babes, malformed men and shit music. Boo.

SOHO ROOMS -- a place where Nastya, achingly beautiful Nastya, can finally find her sponsor and be home by 11 pm.

SOHO ROOMS -- where a genetic failure can buy Katya a mojito and still be 90% sure she'll respond to his text messages by next weekend because she's 28 and can't be arsed with this club shit anymore.

Call it disillusionment. Call it growing up. Call it Medvedev onset. But Dyagilev will always be the President of my heart.

Photos: mainpeople.ru
The Most, 6/3 Kuznetsky Most Ulitsa, Metro: Kuznetsky Most, Tel. 660-0706, themost.ru

Soho Rooms, 12 Savvinskaya Naberezhnaya, Metro: Sportivnaya, Tel. 988-7474, sohorooms.com