Data Transmission : True Stories: Chris Liberator
True Stories: Chris Liberator
Written By: Ben Gomori
Anyone who knows anything about the acid techno scene will know that anyone involved in it will have their fair share of bizarre and harrowing tales to tell. Being such an underground phenomenon, it’s always going to engender all manner of weird and wonderful behavior and illicit happenings – and that’s just what scene pioneer Chris Liberator [pictured on the right] got himself in for on a trip to Russia way back when. In the first of a two-part special (tomorrow featuring his partner-in-crime Sterling Moss), Chris tells of gangsters, strippers and acid….
I've amassed thousands of tales from my years of DJing including some pretty mad things that have happened at squat parties, as well as some interesting things on my travels abroad - but I think by far and away the most fascinating place I visited was Russia in the mid nineties.
Myself and the other two Liberators (Julian and Aaron) ended up going there regularly during this period after Julian visited with Megadog and a whole host of other dance acts on some sort of cultural exchange trip which went decidedly awry when the promoter disappeared, leaving the artists holed up in a hotel without food, money, or any means of getting around. Luckily for Julian, before things went completely wrong he met some young Russian ravers who befriended him and he ended up playing a gig for them and eventually returning to tour a couple of months later on the back of that. After the success of this we all ended up going several times over this period, effectively becoming the first international dance DJs to play regularly in Russia (for what it's worth!).
Now, you have to remember that Russia at this time was still finding its feet after several decades of Communist isolation and it was a strange and chaotic place. When the old regime folded, a lot of the people in power became very rich by appropriating vast amounts of the old state's assets, leaving an infrastructure which relied almost entirely on the black market. In other words: the whole place was run – literally - by gangsters, who in many instances had huge amounts of disposable money whilst most ordinary people had nothing. Add to that the fact that capitalism had just started to flourish there (but without any of the checks we have here in the west) and you had a country which was like no other before or since. It was the wild west of its time and every visit I made was extremely weird, occasionally wonderful, and usually quite dangerous - but we were all totally up for it and we had some of the best times with some of the craziest people I’ve ever had the pleasure to hang out with. There are several stories from these visits but the one I've chosen is certainly one of the weirdest and demonstrates the nature of the place at this time pretty well I think.
I went over to play at a big rave in Moscow and arrived that evening. We went straight to the venue that was some kind of massive theatre and the place was packed. The promoter, a friend of ours called Timor, gave me my set time and when it came I played my set and finished around 4AM. After playing, Timor gave me some drinks and asked me to hang around until the end, so I plotted up and hung out with a few people I knew thinking that would be it for the night. About half hour later he suddenly returned and said in no uncertain terms, Chris, you have to go with this guy to another party and play again. I was a bit reluctant, but from previous trips knew never to expect the expected. However I was a little perturbed because the guy I was supposed to go with had just offered me some acid, which I refused, but I’d noticed he'd just eaten two blotters, and he was supposed to be driving! Anyway, I grabbed my records and we left.
As soon as we got in the car the acid started to work and the guy (I never found out his name) started babbling in Russian (he didn't speak any English either). By this time it was getting light and although Moscow's roads are full of crazy drivers this guy's driving was becoming increasingly erratic. To add to this he opened the glove compartment and produced a gun, which he insisted, I hold and try out, and then when I politely refused started waving about for everyone to see - freaking out most of the drivers we passed. I just closed my eyes and hoped for the best.
After driving for what seemed like hours across Moscow we eventually arrived at our destination, but it didn't look at all like a club as we got out of the car and entered what seemed like a private apartment block and got straight into a lift. I began to feel as though I was the one on acid as the doors opened on the top floor and we entered what can only be described as a private strip club. I was greeted by a massive suited gangster who immediately said to me, "You, Chris Liberator, play now!" and pointed to the decks next to a stage where two girls were writhing around to some kind of loungey house music. I didn't have any house, only banging techno, and had no choice other than to do what I was told, so proceeded to the decks and tried my best to play something suitable. I am not joking when I say I played for hours and hours in fear of my life whilst various sweaty suited up gangsters on E danced around and a procession of girls did their stuff on the small stage left of me. If they danced, I wouldn't get any hard looks or bad reactions, but when they stopped you could feel the menace in their stares ...oops, time to change the record!
Eventually, after what seemed like forever, another DJ came along and took over. Whatever I'd managed to play, it had obviously done the job as I hadn't been shot, and the few punters there had seemingly enjoyed it so as I stepped from the booth tired and very freaked out I started to look forward to the possibility of a hotel and some sleep. Alas, this was not to be as when I searched the place my driver had disappeared. There was no-one to speak to, no promoter, just a load of dodgy non English speaking gangsters and their molls, and no mobile phones back in those days to call anyone. I was literally stuck with no chance of leaving, and I didn't have a clue where I was and no money.
Luckily, there were a couple of "normal" looking ravers I'd spotted earlier, so I went over and attempted to talk to them. One of them spoke a little English and we tried to figure out what I could do, though with little success - but at least I had some company! As the hours dragged by it became evening and the kids I was with were talking about leaving so I tried my best to explain with rising panic that I must come with them, that I didn't have a choice, and not to leave me there! Just at this point my driver calmly reappeared as if nothing had happened and announced that we were going. I was never gladder to see someone than then, but my obvious relief didn't seem to translate. It was all as if he'd come to get me at a pre-arranged time and what was I worrying about?
When I finally got back to Moscow and I asked Timor what the hell that had been all about, he simply said (as I heard him and a dozen others say so many times), "you mustn't worry, everything is under control". I learned over all my visits during this time that the best and only policy was to go with the flow, and this experience was just one of many that I had there, some a lot more strange than this. Julian got arrested once for pissing in the street, almost gangraped, and was rescued from jail by two friends posing as lawyers - but that's another story!
Suffice to say, I play in Russia frequently these days and it's certainly changed from 16 or 17 years ago, and although I loved going back then, I can't really say that I miss those times!
Chris Liberator & Sterling Moss’ The Sound Of London Acid Techno sample pack is out now at loopmasters.com
Data Transmission : True Stories: Chris Liberator
