MC Myasnoi’s Utopia

Photo: Barði Benediktsson

Tonight, on October the 22nd, the apartment on Freyjugata is hosting a gig. When I arrive, a collective of musicians is relaxing, socializing, either watching their friends perform or getting ready for their act. I walk through the kitchen to the living room which has been appropriated as a makeshift stage, crammed with gear, musical instruments, amplifiers, pedals, cables, technology. The speakers frame the space on either side, the mike stand centers the boundary between performer and audience, indicating the possibility of contact. The venue typifies Reykjavík underground charm.

MC Myasnoi, an electronic musical act from Russia and Iceland, is on the lineup tonight. This is the first time that I see them perform. It turns out to be a memorable show, with the performers and the audience in close, intimate proximity. The crowd is apparently in sync and breaks out dancing at a crucial moment of group cohesion. Afterwards, I reflect upon the energy of the performance and the venue’s vibes, fully satisfied with the fruits of this music scene’s labours.

A few weeks later, I’m hopping out of a taxi on Skipholt. Today, I am meeting Yulia Vasilieva and Ronja Jóhannsdóttir, two of the creative minds behind the musical project MC Myasnoi, for a chat in Ronja’s apartment qua studio. (MC Myasnoi’s third member, Ekaterina Lukianova, currently residing abroad, is unable to join the discussion.) As participants in this fascinating scene, I’m curious what they can tell me about their view of art, life and performance.

Who is MC?

It does not take long to realize, after settling on the sofa with Yulia and Ronja, that MC Myasnoi is more than a band. As we chat, it becomes evident that MC Myasnoi is, crucially, a concept. “MC Myasnoi is not human,” Ronja explains as the conversation picks up speed. Yulia adds emphatically, with relish, “It’s an entity.” MC Myasnoi personifies an inhuman quality that can be found in all of us, claim the two musicians. “It’s something people have to embrace. It can be scary, but everyone will profit from accepting it,” Yulia suggests slyly, and the two of them giggle. So what kind of entity is MC Myasnoi? I attempt to unravel the enigma as our conversation progresses.

Photo: Barði Benediktsson

“Kapitalism Makes No Sense”

I ask Yulia and Ronja to walk me through the sentiment behind the title of their track, “Kapitalism Makes No Sense,” featured on their EP, “Factorial. А почему бы и нет”. (Yes, that last bit is in Russian.) What might possibly make more sense than capitalism? We put our heads together in search of the answer. As often quoted, it’s easier to imagine the end of the world than it is to imagine the end of capitalism. I soliloquize on the shortage of utopian dreaming in our culture, which appears to be far better geared for the production of dystopian narratives.

“We can’t imagine the end of capitalism, it’s easier for us to imagine the end of the world, but MC Myasnoi can see it,” says Ronja, with Yulia promptly rejoining, “Definitely, definitely. MC is breaking microphones, MC is breaking hearts, and MC is going to break capitalism. There is a concept of how people could be saved. I think that all the money should go to MC Myasnoi and then he would wisely give parts of all the capital to people.” I reflect that this makes the entity of MC Myasnoi sound something like an omnipresent yet immaterial redistributive mechanism, a future progeny of the ongoing digital revolution. I start fantasizing about the techno-communist future in which an artificial intelligence interface moderates the processes of resource allocation within society. (Pardon my French, dear right-wing readers.)

It should be noted that, even the brightest ideologies, while beautiful as abstractions, are susceptible to corruption insofar as the human beings implementing and maintaining them are corruptible. It has been proven time and again that power has a corruptive tendency. “So, MC Myasnoi is kind of like a benevolent monarch. Everything goes to the stockpile, and the stockpile is shared by all,” Ronja explains. “I think it helps that MC Myasnoi is not a human, he is an entity,” Ronja reminds me. “Individual humans are corruptible, but our collective imagination does not have to be.”

Dictator or shaman?

Photo: Barði Benediktsson

Now that we have defined one role of MC Myasnoi, as that of the benevolent monarch, we’re not too far off from coming to the same conclusion as David Bowie during his Thin White Duke period, namely that the rock star is a dictator. “It is a really hierarchical thing, the stage. It creates this hierarchy where the performer is above the crowd, and I really hate that dichotomy,” Ronja reveals. “I want to abolish the stage, preferably.” “But we still need to let people know that we are a little bit above them,” Yulia puts in coyly. Ronja clarifies, “Not we, but MC Myasnoi, the non-human entity. We are not personally MC Myasnoi, we just channel the entity through us.” In that way of putting things, MC Myasnoi most resembles a shaman, possessed by spirits and guiding the masses through a cathartic, communal experience. But which side of MC does the audience actually perceive during a show?

Abolish the stage!

It turns out, the audience’s reception may have much to do with venue and performance space. Reviewing MC’s recent shows, we were particularly enthusiastic about the gig at Freyjugata. The makeshift stage laid with carpet, the warmth and personal feel of the venue permitted MC to tend to his channeling work unhindered. At a later show in Iðnó, which I had been fortunate to attend, we were blatant witnesses to the effects of space on a crowd. Iðnó’s classically styled interior, referencing history and tradition, its highly elevated stage and symmetric spaciousness seemed to make people reluctant to approach the stage. The group stood spread apart below, craning their heads up at the distant stage. The stage at Iðnó, Yulia remarks, “was like a box, or an old television.” Yulia’s reference to television is fitting, considering the detached spectatorship the audience had assumed during this show.

The gilded cage of Mark Zuckerberg

Photo: Barði Benediktsson

Talking about spaces! The theme of social media, a digital space steadily superimposing itself upon our physical living space, is recurrent in the lyrics of MC Myasnoi. I recall a line from their EP: “I am in the gilded cage of Mark Zuckerberg.” The girls snicker for a bit, then Yulia explains: “Social media is a comfort zone. But you’re still in a cell.” Ronja continues, “It’s a comfortable numbness, an overarching blanket on our society. Brain dead comfort.” “Even though we are trapped, it’s still quite funny that we are trapped,” Yulia muses. “There’s a little bit of irony and humor in that.”

Overall, MC Myasnoi exaggerates the construction of image as it is found within our digitalized environment and thus effectively satirizes the presentation of identity in society today. Their tone is ironic, and it should be obvious that they are engaging in humorous play. “A good quality of art is that it makes people think. I think that’s what we are also aiming for. It’s a good skill to learn, to be aware of life and what’s happening around you,” Yulia concludes.

Thus ended my chat with Yulia and Ronja, channellers of MC Myasnoi, our benevolent monarch, and we parted ways in a cheerful mood. With MC Myasnoi, the bleakness of the future is a few shades lighter. Here’s to utopia!