Coockoo

Russian livewires and SupaJam favourites Coockoo have launched an indiegogo crowdsource to fund their 3rd studio album. The band, who's sparky, discofied indie got them booked as official support on Garbage's recent tour of Russia, have all taken the plunge, quit their jobs, and left Moscow for London. Now they're looking to capitilise on the success of their time with Garbage by nailing an all important third album. They're nearly there as well, and with a little of your help could make it - they're looking for £21,000 and have raised £16,050 with 7 days to go.

Incentives for investing range from a copy of the album for a tenner to a gig in your house from the band for a grand... Find out more in the video from singer Masha below, watch their infectious party track Groupie Anthem under that, then get yer wallet out and visit the indiegogo page here.http://www.indiegogo.com/Coockoo - Supajam

Moscow’s Coockoo (above) form a useful counterpoint to these generic runarounds. The band’s debut LP, “Cosmoventura,” was presented to the public on March 1st and allows them to build on the earlier, cheeky reputation of their 2009 web-hit, “Groupies’ Anthem (F.U.C.K.).” A wantonly silly look at the life of groupies, Coockoo were – like Fake Elegance – looking to borrow from the subversive appeal of rock, whilst holding its local, Russian consequence at arm’s length. It was invoked and mocked at the same time.
The individuals responsible for these contrary noises, both on stage, and online – for example at Vkontakte – are Petia Krykin (the “granddaddy”); Maria Mel’nikova (“the redhead”); Evgenii Orlov (“the drums”); Anton Tolmachev (“the boss”); and Egor’ Kosarev (simply “Egor’”).

Having now produced a debut album, the band defines it as “cosmic adventures for your head.” The title’s inclusion of the word “adventure” was deliberate, they say, “whereas we ran across the ‘cosmic’ bit purely by chance.” Themes of enterprise and exploit are deliberately chosen, whereas the potentially bombastic scale of outer space was a mere “chance discovery”; they downplay it immediately.
They add another silly thought: “Your can hear our songs on the iPods people use in space stations!” Majesty and anything monumental are politely shunned – with a giggle.

And then, with equal speed, the possibility that Coockoo might have produced a [pompous, "rockist"] concept album is rejected. A journalist asked recently: “Why on earth do you have a song that’s called ‘Sixth,’ but it’s number three in the running order? And then you’ve got another track called ‘Seven’… but it’s number five in the CD’s tracklist? Why’s that?” The answer: “When we started work on the CD, some of the tracks didn’t have names yet, so we just numbered them. Then it all got mixed up, though…”

This celebration of randomness is supported further: “Once that order of things had changed, we simply left everything in a way that was easier to listen to. That way an overall picture came into view.” If, in other words, the CD (now!) has a concept, that overarching idea neither has pretense towards social policy, nor towards philosophical rigor.
Likewise, one of the other tracks, “Bathroom Song,” is simply named as such because it came – partially – into the head of vocalist Mel’nikova when she happened to be in that same room. Nothing more than a coincidence.

“Cosmoventura” is an appealing, knockabout recording, starting with the energetic and immediately contrary “Ne Discotheque” (fourth track in this post). Again as with Fake Elegance, this band takes one of the boldest, brightest, or cheesiest locales of pop culture and then negates it… in order to clear the space for a dance number! If, in other words, today’s “elegance” is predominantly “fake,” and discotheques are worthy of scant respect, they are brushed aside in order to be taken over by penniless, disorderly spirits of impish “adventure.”
Dreaming of “cosmic” consequence, Coockoo’s trouble-making imps are – when asked seriously about starry-eyed romance – too full of self-mockery to imagine themselves any higher than the nearest rooftop.
Somewhere off to the right-hand corner of the apartments.

It’s precisely these little negations, though, that constitute the charm of both bands. Fake Elegance, without a doubt, invest more time and care in their pop portfolio that one would expect from many East European outfits. One need only consider the band’s graphic work, photo shoots, and videos to see that a shoestring budget is dictating all of their PR-related decisions, and yet the level of craftsmanship in many of their tracks speaks – in no uncertain terms – of very hard work and hard-won harmonies. These are songs that have been buffed, polished, and well-crafted in locations far from any corporate address.
They’re made in bedrooms and bathrooms, as Coockoo would attest.

If the Fake Elegance album refuses to surrender the pop canon to monsters of primetime media, then Coockoo’s members refuse to let that same serious commitment run too far. With a tracklist thrown together by chance, and a curse-laden web-hit on the dangers of group membership, the “Cosmoventura” CD makes sure that the charms of a well-honed pop song can be found not only in the love and attention of its authors, but in the exact opposite, too: in a deliberately mischievous, junkyard jollity.
Between these nine musicians, living far apart in Moscow and Kiev, the members of Fake Elegance and Coockoo make admirable strides towards a multifaceted, laudably contradictory view of pop-rock in the Russian-language context.

Both bands could conceivably find a place on national radio. If they did so at the same time, a happy confusion would result, consisting – as one of Coockoo’s own images suggest – of both humor and glamor… with the occasional helping of corn. And we all know the benefits of a balanced diet. - www.moscow.ucla.edu

Moscow-based alternative quintet Coockoo makes it perfectly clear they’re out for a good time with opening track “Groupies’ Anthem (F.U.C.K),” which became an internet sensation and underground favorite in Russia, with its sing-song melody and mischievous lyric (“F-U-C-K I’m going to the U.K., F-U-C-K M-E I’ll do it with you for free”). Since, debut album “Cosmoventura,” has garnered props from national radio and music TV outlets, with its refreshingly experimental template. Lead vocalist Maria Melnikova (who also contributes synths and percussion) has a novel vocal timbre that lies somewhere between Lene Lovich and Sixpence None the Richer’s Leigh Nash, ever so slightly off-kilter, while bandmates Egor Kosarev (guitars, drum machine), Petr Krykin (guitars, synths, drum machines), Anton Tolmachev (bass guitar) and Evgeny Orlov (drums, synths, keyboards, percussion, backing vocals) surround her like a cacophony of haunted spirits. Both “Rome” and “6th” offer the sonic equivalent of a mind-altering substance, with the novel weirdo inclusion of rubbery synths and nervous squeals of guitar alongside a more traditional menu of jangly guitars and organic percussion. “Seven” feels like a drunken ride down an endless highway, as Melnikova mumbles and mutters and the guys provide a jumble of agitated instrumentation. “Bathroom Song” is akin to musical performance art, with a chant of “I feel butterflies in my stomach, It’s time to chase ‘em and then to catch ‘em”; while “Moonride” opens as a dreamy confection before transitioning into a giddy anthemic invitation to “be wild!” “Mimimi” is among the more mainstream numbers, with a straight-ahead organic arrangement, albeit still packed with the maudlin intensity that pervades the majority of “Cosmoventura.” Coockoo knows who it is—often half the battle when trying to define oneself in the crowded music marketplace—and offers a sound that is bold and pioneering, if a good bit to the left of typical Western radio. As a live act, this group must be quite the trip to experience: a bazaar of self-aware psychoses, with a wink. Well done.
- Billboard Discoveries

Do you feel your head nodding? Your body beginning to move? Don’t worry it’s nothing serious just the infectious dance jams of Coockoo getting under your skin. Hailing from Moscow and garnering accolades in the underground Russian music scene. This isn’t surprising because Coockoo bring the sultry and fuzzy songs that wouldn’t sound out of a place on a darker Shiny Toy Guns record, or a lighter hearted Yeah Yeah Yeah’s song. Take one glance at “Ne Discotheque” and its infectious chorus will stay under your skin for days, follow that up with the sweaty bass stomp and pomp of “Groupies’ Anthem (F.U.C.K.)” and you’ll be sold for many late nights to come.
Cody Blevins - Vents Magazine

“Ne Discotheque”, an electro-rock stomper with a whip smart tempo, ranks as one of the most captivating opening tracks I’ve heard in ages by an act entirely new to me, paving the way for the surprises you’ll hear from this young Moscow band (as in the Russian city), on their album, Cosmoventura. The title itself is perfect, summoning up big screen adventures worthy of kooky cosmonauts, all relayed by a band with the cheeky name Coockoo. Their catchy “Groupies’ Anthem (F.U.C.K.)”, which first got them widespread attention around Moscow, is a standout, and just might become a Russian indie pop rock anthem as did Pulp’s hit “Common People” in the UK when unleashed on BBC Radio back in 1996. Coockoo is worthy of the tag eclectic, with vibrant songs in English, and an album which revels in mixing genres and international sounds, exploring everything from Britpop to experimental, jazzy interludes.–Selina S. - Sentimentalist Magazine