It's the CD release night and the crowd masses inside the Port City Music Hall. McGuckin, Kurtz and Greer have done the sound check and suited themselves up in fine tuxery in anticipation of a thoroughly devoted audience. One, two, three the heads go back and the vodka disappears and the time for toasting is over. The time for rocking has begun.

Kino Proby celebrates its tenth anniversary in grand style, releasing a live CD to their adoring audience at their annual concert. I'm being a bit loose, there, with the term "tenth anniversary." The band has only been performing together since 2004. The roots of the band, however, stretch back to a trip in the year 2000 to Russia. While abroad, Adam and Jarlath not only started their friendship, they first learned about the band Kino.

Viktors I, II and III step onto the darkened stage. Theater smoke drifts past them as the Russian national anthem swells and lifts, setting up tension, mounting in volume. A colossal noise rips through the composition as Kino Proby batters eardrums. Viktor II (Kurtz) can't be contained. He bounds across the stage, practically flying off the notes he tears from his guitar, propelled by vicious tones.

Portland's Kino Proby tribute band - cover band doesn't do them justice - formed, appropriately enough, at a tribute concert in Russia called "Kino Proby." Kino is, of course, the original band. "Proby" means "attempt," roughly translated. Kurtz picked up a disc at the concert that had every Kino album. He was hooked. And it's been a lasting affair, to this day Kurtz says he listens to Kino more than just about every other band.

Viktor I (McGuckin) feeds off II's energy. They duel and battle, push and pull each other across the stage. It makes an energetic and unique dance - a stage experience you'll only see at a Kino Proby show. Between songs, I and II rattle on in Russian and English, praising Viktor Tsoi, Kino's revered founder, and explaining what the songs meant to Tsoi and - better still - what the songs mean to Kino Proby. The audience loves it.

Kino Proby has been tested on audiences for Portland to St. Petersburg. Their infectious energy, impressive talent and devotion to Kino bleed into the crowd in every situation... especially impressive considering all none of the Viktors are native Russian speakers. McGuckin now lives in St. Petersburg. Kurtz visited in the summer of 2007 and shared this anecdote:

"That was insane, because there we were, 3 Americans, playing beloved songs to the natives in their native St. Petersburg (also Tsoi's hometown) and they loved us. This was a room of about 200 capacity plus a balcony and it was packed and bumpin' and so exciting. The day between the two shows we payed homage to Tsoi by going to his grave (in the nothern part of the city) - this involved a few bus transfers and, during one, a girl walked by and saw us and said "Kino Proby!" and we were like "Yeaa!" and she says "you guys are great, respect!" (in Russian)."

A Kino Proby audience is unlike any other you'll come across in Portland. It draws people who love the Portland scene, punk fans and the far Eastern European contingent. What's interesting about the last group is that it comprises just about all age groups and classes. I saw dock workers and grandfathers dancing with hip young girls and professional mothers. Viktor II says this is typical of the Kino Proby audience. It's almost a bean supper for the folks we once called Reds. All the more impressive, not only is the music a Soviet Magnet... but it draws fans devoted to Kino as well.

It's a large following.

Viktor Tsoi is something like Eurasian Elvis. The music of Kino remains hugely popular, despite Tsoi's death in 1990. Kino was a voice for mid-80s Perestrojka revolt. The lyrics weren't as revolutionary as you might expect. They were simply human with a casual declaration of freedom. But the music was the first of its kind - the only of its kind, still - to come out from behind the Iron Curtain. It was the voice of human change, simple and idealistic and most importantly loud and ear-jangling in just the right way. And Portland's own Kino Proby has managed to capture that for much of its crowd. Kurtz again:

"I remember after a show at Harper's Ferry in Boston, an emotional young woman came up to me and said in broken english that KINO is her favorite band and, of course, since Tsoi is dead, she could never see them live but it had always been her dream and that [after the Kino Proby show], she feels like she has lived her dream."

The Viktors invite everyone wearing a Kino Proby shirt onstage. Soon the stage is crowded with laughing crowd members and more of them don't have the shirt than do. It's fine participatory fun and just a reminder that Kino Proby is a special experience, one we're lucky to have in Portland. It is a unique blend of talent and material, culture and chance. It mixes superb musicianship with a tumultuous time in world history, struggling humanism and mixing cultures.

And it's all right here, once a year.

On the web:
Kino Proby
Kino Proby's Phoenix Profile
Bryan Bruchman's review of the CD release show