Будь Готов Сынок by Бригадный Подряд: A Punk Rock Punch to the Gut
Alright, buckle up. If you’ve ever wondered what happens when Russian punk rock gets its hands on a time machine and a bottle of vodka, Будь Готов Сынок is your answer. Released in 2017 under VDV Records, this album from Бригадный Подряд feels like a sweaty basement gig where everyone’s shouting lyrics they barely remember but absolutely mean. It’s raw, unpolished, and hits harder than your ex’s text messages.
Let’s break it down. The lineup? Solid AF. Bassist Александр Муравьев lays down grooves that feel like they’re holding the whole chaotic circus together. Drums by Валерий Трушин are punchy enough to wake up your neighbors, and Юрий Соболев’s guitar work is all sharp edges and no chill. But the real MVP here is Николай Михайлов—his vocals sound like he gargled with gravel before hitting record. In short, these guys don’t just play punk; they live it.
Now, onto the tracks. You’ve got five bangers, each packing its own flavor of chaos. I could ramble about all of them, but let’s zoom in on two standouts:
First up, “Чойбалсан.” This track slaps so hard, I’m pretty sure my speakers filed a restraining order after the third listen. The energy is through the roof, and the lyrics are as cryptic as a drunk uncle’s life advice. There’s something hypnotic about how the bassline locks in with the drums—it’s like they’re daring you not to headbang. Spoiler alert: You will.
Then there’s “Милое Дело,” which flips the vibe entirely. It starts off almost... sweet? Don’t get too comfy though. About halfway through, the song morphs into a full-blown punk riot, complete with riffs that sound like they were stolen from an alternate universe where Sid Vicious became a poet. The contrast between the mellow intro and the explosive payoff is chef’s kiss. Honestly, if this track doesn’t make you want to grab a mic (or a broomstick) and scream along, check your pulse—you might be dead.
The rest of the album follows suit: loud, messy, and impossible to ignore. Tracks like “Интердевочка” and “Будь Готов, Сынок” keep the momentum going, blending social commentary with the kind of irreverent humor that only punk can pull off without sounding preachy. By the time the last note fades, you’re left wondering whether you just survived a concert or a bar fight. Either way, it was worth it.
So, what’s the takeaway here? Будь Готов Сынок isn’t perfect—it’s too rough around the edges for that—but maybe perfection is overrated anyway. What it lacks in polish, it makes up for in heart and sheer audacity. Listening to this album feels like being invited to a secret club where the password is “chaos” and the dress code is whatever you grabbed off the floor this morning.
Final thought: If aliens landed tomorrow and asked for one example of human creativity at its most untamed, I’d hand them this album. And honestly? They’d probably love it. Or destroy us for making such noise. Either way, mission accomplished.
