Boris Grebenshikov is coming back to Belgium. I am delighted, since after the BG Symfonia concert at the end of 2023 in Hasselt – which was beautiful, but clearly did not attract enough people – I feared that the Russian rock star would not come to Belgium again so soon.

Tonight, on January 23, 2025, he plays in Brussels again. This time not with a classical orchestra, but with his regular backing group, a solid sextet of musicians who have been supporting Grebenshikov for years. The fact that he no longer performs under the name Åquarium, the legendary band he founded in 1972, but as BG+, is because Åquarium is one of the victims of Russia’s war against Ukraine. Boris could not live with the fact that some band members justified the war.

Grebenshikov can look back on a rich career, with the recording of the first Russian underground records in the early 80s, with his success in the Leningrad Rock Club, but also with the gigantic breakthrough of Russian rock during the perestroika. In the late 80s he tried to break through internationally in English, in vain, but he then returned to Russian and made many eclectic and great records. And at the blessed age of 71 he still remains creative. He released two EPs in 2024, and since some work that was played tonight has not yet appeared on record, I predict more albums will follow.

Western fans of Russian rock music can see at least one advantage in the barbaric Ukrainian war, and that is that the biggest Russian rock stars – who were, almost without exception, branded as ‘foreign agents’ by the Russian government, and consequently left the homeland – are now all performing in the West. A few weeks ago I saw Andrei Makarevich in Brussels, and Zemfira in Paris, while DDT and Bi-2 gave shows in Amsterdam, which I unfortunately could not attend.

It is the first time I come to La Madeleine since the hall was redeveloped as a concert hall, and I must say that it is a positive experience. The atmosphere is very Buddhist when I enter the room, with the sounds of singing bowls and throat singing ringing around. Grebenshikov was Russia’s most famous Buddhist for many years, but he actually has a much broader view of spirituality and is in fact multi-religious. At the back of the stage hangs a painting of an oriental deity with a sitar. It is an image of Sarasvati, the Hindu goddess of knowledge, art, music, poetry, wisdom, rhetoric, writing and literature.

When Grebenshikov comes on stage, he immediately warns us that he is going to play songs we don’t know. He is wearing a beret and a long beard, and sunglasses of course. And he is right. The opening track ‘Мёртвые Матросы не спят (Dead sailors don't sleep)’ is an obscure song from 2005 that many have forgotten. The same goes for ‘Джунгли (Jungles)’, although this song dates back to the time of perestroika. That must also be the time when ‘Боже, Храни Полярников (God, save the polar workers)’ was released, a melancholic yet hilarious song in which Boris asks God to be good to the polar workers and provide them with a larger ration of alcohol.

Admittedly, I had heard these songs before, but I didn’t expect them to be played on this evening. It certainly won’t be an evening of greatest hits. More recent songs follow, such as ‘Праздник урожая во дворце труда (Harvest Festival in the Palace of Labor)’ from 2013 and ‘Духовный Лидер (Spiritual Leader)’ from 2024, but even here you are a real connoisseur if you can sing along to these songs, because Grebenshikov can draw on more than fifty records and more than five hundred songs.

I find it quite an interesting concept to shed light on your unknown numbers in this way. I had never even heard ‘Всё Кошки Серы (All cats are gray)’ and ‘Никто и Звать Никак (Nobody and no name)’ before. I am happy when a classic like ‘Когда пройдет боль (When the pain passes)’ resounds, but with ‘5 Утра (Five o'clock in the morning)’, Grebenshikov closes the first part of the concert that consisted mainly of new or obscure works.

Singing bowls and throat singing accompany us again as we go get a drink and sit down again for the second part of the concert. ‘Орёл, Телец и Лев (Eagle, Bull and Lion)’, an old song from the 80s, already indicates that more familiar work will be played now. ‘Железнодорожная Вода (Railway Water)’ and ‘Чай (Tea)’ are even two ancient songs from Åquarium's official debut: ‘Синий Альбом (The Blue Album)’ from 1981. At the time, Grebenshikov mainly wanted to sound like Bob Dylan, and for many years he would be called the Russian Dylan, even if he did so many other things afterwards.

‘Второе Стеклянное Чудо (The Second Glass Miracle)’ comes from ‘Акустика (Acoustic)’, a record with beautiful melancholic folk music from 1982 that significantly expanded Åquarium's range. After the samba song ‘Палёное виски и толчёный мел (Burnt Whiskey and Crushed Chalk)’, a composition by the virtuoso Irish flutist Brian Finnegan may even be heard: ‘Bernie & Ciaran’. Both songs come from the brilliant 2015 album ‘Top’, although Finnegan has played a prominent role in Grebenshikov’s backing group since around 2008.

I managed to get my hands on the evening’s setlist via the merch stand, and I’m a little disappointed that Grebenshikov skipped top numbers like ‘Серебро Господа Моего (The Lord's Silver)’ and ‘Там, где взойдёт Луна (Where the Moon Rises)’. ‘Марш Священных Коров (March of the Sacred Cows)’ makes the pain pass a little, but it’s what follows that makes the evening truly unforgettable.

Although the performance is seated, a group of dancing Russians has gathered at the side of the stage. During the irresistibly cheerful ‘Не Пей Вина Гертруда (Don’t drink wine, Gertrude)’, dancing nymphs come to liven up the atmosphere in front of the stage. They encourage Boris to stand up and sing while the audience sings along and claps their hands. The atmosphere can’t be ruined in any way after that.

With ‘Великая железнодорожная симфония (The Great Railway Symphony)’ Grebenshikov once again shows how he knows how to combine wonderful melodies with original song structures and moving spiritual texts. The atmosphere is now that of an intimate gathering among like-minded people. When he starts the rousing drinking song ‘Стаканы (Glasses)’, Grebenshikov knows that he only has to give a sign for the audience to react exuberantly. There is dancing, whistling, singing, jumping. Unfortunately, this is the end of the second part, which obviously leads to a standing ovation that lasts for minutes.

Of course, the old man returns on stage to play one of his 80s highlights: ‘Сидя На Красивом Холме (Sitting on a Beautiful Hill)’, the opening track from 1984's ‘День Серебра (The Day of Silver)’, a record that made Åquarium hugely popular in the run-up to perestroika. ‘У императора Нерона (At Emperor Nero's)’ is even older, taken from a 1982 record of ‘pure, reckless absurdity’, which was simply named with a symbol: ‘▼’. (That’s easy, since don’t have to translate it.)

‘Месть Королевы Анны (The Revenge of Queen Anna)’ is a cheerful song, but I get a little emotional at the thought that this man is playing here for the Russian diaspora, and is no longer allowed to play in Russia since he condemned the war in Ukraine. This abominable, inhuman war between brother nations, which should never have happened. The Russians who are dancing here so happily tonight are the Russians who are against the war. The Russians who support Putin actually think Grebenshikov is a loser, and they make no secret of it.

Putin propagandists like Vladimir Solovyov and Margarita Simonyan – television personalities who are allowed to proclaim their hatred of the West on the biggest Russian channels every day – use ‘Grebenshikov’ as a swear word to stigmatize all peace-minded Russians. For me, this only makes this man more heroic.

In all fairness, I must say that Grebenshikov does not want to be a political figure at all, let alone a dissident or an activist. He did not want to be one when people said he contributed to the fall of communism, and he does not want to be one today. Anyone who wants to hear the man’s political views will return from a disappointingly empty journey.

Grebenshikov wants to connect people, and he succeeds in doing so with the closing song ‘День Радости (Day of Joy)’. People sing along, hug each other, dance together, and some even cry, touched by such amount of beauty. It was a bit of a strange concert, in which Grebenshikov wanted to encourage us to explore his lesser-known work, but which was nevertheless wonderfully beautiful and contained enough famous songs to satisfy everyone. I will continue to follow the man and his work, and will be there again next time he comes to Belgium, promised.

Video: ‘Стаканы (Glasses)’

Read our interview with Boris Grebenshikov from 2023.

On the next day, Boris Grebenshikov and his musicians performed an online concert in La Madeleine that was very similar to the one reviewed here. You can watch the full online concert here.