For four decades on stage, the question remains: what fuels longevity in an artistic life?
They respond with a blend of humility and resolve. They never tailored their work to fit public opinion. They wrote music and sang about what mattered to them, staying true to their passions and the people they cared about. They insist honesty is essential, because a lie rings loud to listeners and stifles creativity over time.
Asked which era of their career felt most successful, they smile and say they do not view creativity as a sequence of distinct phases. Every chapter matters, even the difficult ones from the 1990s, which are seen as equally valuable as the later years.
When asked whether today’s climate offers more creative freedom than the 1980s, they acknowledge fewer explicit restrictions. Yet they argue that this openness does not always benefit the work or culture as a whole. They worry that some modern lyrics, filled with profanity and slang, may not enrich the listener’s inner life.
Comparing today’s music scene with the 1990s, they reflect on responsibility. A musician and public figure carries heavy accountability and self-discipline. They live by the principle that those they have helped guide are still in their care, and they recognize that anything misunderstood can be misinterpreted by audiences.
Regarding the recently concluded tour, titled “Guest from the Kingdom of Shadows,” they explain the project began as a Moscow one-off. Fan demand soon expanded it into a full touring show. Logistics and scale prevented covering every city in one run, which extended the journey. Over the course of the tour, they delivered 56 concerts in 47 cities, logged tens of thousands of kilometers, spent countless hours on stage setup and teardown, and invested hundreds of hours performing live.
What are their feelings now that the tour is over? They respond with a lighthearted tease: the journey isn’t finished. They anticipate further performances, the release and premiere of a musical film that continues the story, and a legendary arc that has taken on a life of its own.
Fans come in multiple generations. Families have attended concerts together for years, with children and even grandchildren in attendance. The question of whether their music feels too retro for younger listeners is met with a playful rebuttal: younger fans who sing along to classic songs prove otherwise.
When asked which contemporary artists they watch in Russia and abroad, they name the genre’s enduring icons such as Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, and Ozzy Osbourne, while noting that each member has personal tastes that differ. If every preference were to be listed, the response would become tedious for readers.
On politics, the members make a clear choice. The band has always stayed out of political debates, focusing on music and creativity while letting politicians handle policy and governance.
Asked about Russia, they describe the homeland as their foundation and emphasize that it still matters deeply to them. They acknowledge the country’s role in shaping their identity and career.
When questions arose about accusations in April from Orthodox activists claiming harm to their feelings, they answer with measured skepticism. They view such allegations as self-promotion rather than genuine concern, and they move on without dwelling on the issue.
Do they ever feel hurt by insults? They say they have long since built resilience against harsh words and attacks. Their outlook remains pragmatic: a dog may bark, but the caravan keeps moving forward.
Finally, is the clash between rock and pop a relic of the past? They dismiss the idea as a media construct designed to boost readability. In practice, their live performances, including appearances at various celebratory events, have always blended influences without engaging in a real, sustained rivalry.