All proceeds will go toward civilian protection and medical relief in Syria.
Includes unlimited streaming of #BeatsNotBombs
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about
St Petersburg native Marisol has been a mainstay of the Russian underground hip-hop scene since she was 15 – one of the few women active on the scene throughout the period. Now 31, she has four albums under her belt, covering issues from life and love to politics and social justice. While her lyrical style is inspired by classic Russian literature and the early 20th century ‘silver age’ poets, the subject matter is very much of the present, often seeking to tear through the aggressive propaganda of the Russian state and speak truth to power.
'From Russia with Love and Bombs’ is a direct response to ‘On All Fronts’ by Syrian rapper Amir Almuarri - the track that unexpectedly went viral at the end of 2019, and led to Almuarri’s invitation to address (by video-link) an anti-war rally in St Petersburg where Marisol also performed. A searing expression of anger and regret at Russia’s conduct in the Syrian war (which includes the illegal targeting of civilians in Almuarri’s native Idlib), ‘From Russia...’ concludes by imploring rappers and musicians around the world to “grasp the hands of your musical sisters and brothers” in a show of solidarity with the innocent victims the conflict. The powerful video intersperses shots of Marisol performing in an abandoned power station in Berlin with real images of Russian shelling and the Syrian communities whose lives continue to be torn apart by such indiscriminate attacks.
Breathe in the smoke, the bitter taste of smoking guns
Crumbling homes, so sad it takes the deaths of little ones
To learn; bombs blow holes in hearts that you can’t fix; don’t you remember
The pain of the last war, mother? How much blood and ember?
Little souls, big money, now the monster is awoken
Teeth showing, mouth wide open, Aleppo broken, Syria smoking
Killed by militias, Al-Qaeda and political players
Mr President, was it you who bathed the people there
In their own tears? Why was I born into a land run down
By man-eaters making bombs from dawn to deadly sundown
Under cloak of propaganda, lives are stripped away
Like yesterday, lives ablaze, pledges burning each new day
CHORUS
The generation of clones,
Of blind drones,
Always the first punch thrown
Always the last to go
And when the czar’s dethroned
By man-eaters of their own
Men who claim to know
Are sleeping, prone
Dreaming of the next warzone
[REPEAT]
In mother Russia, tell me, are there souls alive
Who bravely strive for peace to thrive, on earth in this age of lies?
Love to war, ash to ash, aggression to fear, the world is trashed
By new bombs, and in this clash, how can a musical backlash
Stop prison torture? How can words stop us bombing others?
By grasping the hands of your musical sisters and brothers
Add remembering still, Russians don’t have to kill
Some dream of peace, but end up with blood and war still
Pray for your brother
The gates are open Russia
The gates of hell, attacking...
