Home Again: Red Elvises at Rusty's Surf Ranch

I’ve seen Red Elvises play at Rusty’s, by my best count, thirty-two times now, and each time is like that special gift you ask for at Christmas or Hanukah or on your birthday; you know what you’re going to get and each time it may be a little different but it’s always very cool and just what you want.

This night would have been perfect for a reality TV episode. In fact, I think someone should follow Red Elvises around with cameras and put them on TV as the next hot reality series, to really raise the bar on that television genre. You know it would be much more entertaining television than “Mr. Personality,” three of the four guys are “Bachelors,” their trekking across America to get from show to show when on tour is nothing short of an “Amazing Race” and they are already our “(Russian)-American Idols!”

So imagine the fantasy for a few minutes….”Reality Red Elvises…” The camera pans the back patio of Rusty’s and zooms in on Oleg’s hair, blazing as red as his balalaika, as he greets people. Aware of but carefully ignoring the cameras and TV crew, I walk over to say hello and admire the red glow. Once inside the bar/restaurant, I see Igor near the front entrance and we say our hellos as well. The cameraman that followed me in sweeps around the interior of Rusty’s, panning the people watching the opening band – of which, if this really were a reality TV show we would probably at least find out the name, but I did not. The room is full of strangers, to me as well as to the fictional camera crew; it was one of those rather mellow-at-first nights and I see no sign yet of the “Rusty’s Regulars” usually there for Red Elvises shows.

The camera settles on the bar and the people already lined up on stools there. As much as I don’t particularly want to be on camera (although if they could work some magic with hair and makeup on me I probably wouldn't kick and scream against the idea), I do want a beer, so I manage to wedge in and get one, which I then carry back outside to the back patio. Oleg waves me over and pulls out a chair at the table he shares with Igor and Vladimir. Several members of the fictional camera crew are all around us, hoping for some good laughs or maybe even drama. Luckily, they don’t get in the way of the opening band moving their equipment out through the patio. I drink my beer while the guys finish eating, order a pitcher of beer and talk in Russian and English. Oleg tells me he likes my red dress, red fishnets and red beaded jacket, and Vladimir remarks that I seem to be losing weight. What sweethearts! I thank them both very much for the compliments. They all look very good, of course, and are in fine spirits, glad to be home. We talk some more about other subjects but some things get edited out of the final cut. One conversation does make it when another familiar face, longtime band friend Alex, shows up and notices the now-empty plate in front of Vladimir. Just a little earlier, Igor had been eating mashed potatoes from that very plate while Vladimir finished off the meat. The cameras zoom in for the following conversation:

“Oh, you cleaned your plate!” says Alex to Vladimir.

I laugh and can’t resist saying, “He had some help!” And it comes out about Igor eating the mashed potatoes.

“Actually, that was my plate and he was eating from it,” explains Igor. Ah! We knew there was a logical explanation. Laughter, real, not just polite for the fictional cameras, ensues.

Soon, the guys have to leave the table and go set up and get ready to play. I mingle and meet a girl from South Carolina who saw them in Greenville earlier on this tour they just finished, and we get more beer. I show her how to claim a primo spot right in front of the stage as the show is about to start. Now comes the best part of what would make a can’t-miss reality show, the concert itself. Excitement is in the air. People are ready to dance and have some fun, and they will not be disappointed. I don’t know where the camera crew would have set up if they had actually been there, since by show time the place was pretty crowded. But let’s just keep imagining that they were there anyway. If only…(sigh).

Schramm’s keyboard was on the left side of the stage this time, and everyone else was where you would expect them to be – Oleg on the right, a grinning vision in bright red from balalaika to hair, Adam in back hitting his drums hard, doing a fantastic job, and Igor out front wooing the girls and singing his heart out to the crowd. Some of the songs they played, in completely incorrect order (because the nonexistent camera crew wouldn’t let me have a copy of the nonexistent videotape they didn’t shoot – because of course they weren’t actually there and the whole point of my going on in this vein is to reiterate what a hoot it would be if someone brilliant DID do a reality show about Our Favorite Band… Well, I’m sure you get the point and all that, just humor me…), now where were we? Oh yes, songs….a partial list would be: “I’m Not That Kind of Guy,” “Scorchie Chorniye,” “Night Butterfly,” “This Night is Wasted [But I’m Not]” – honestly, that’s what Igor announced as the title of the song! Also: “200 Flying Girls,” “Rocketman,” “Sad Cowboy Song,” “Jerry’s Got a Squeeze Box,” “Closet Disco Dancer,” “I Wanna See You Belly Dance,” “Juliet,” “My Love is Killing Me,” “Lovepipe,” “Telephone Call From Istanbul,” “Strip Joint is Closed,” “Sex in Paradise” and “Boogie on the Beach.” There were more, I’m sure, but that’s what I remember.

During the break, as the reality TV crew that should have been there continued to miss out on this exciting and very film-worthy night, I talked briefly with Igor about their recent “car accident” in America’s heartland. To briefly recap last month’s report from Jackdaw for anyone who hasn’t heard or read last month’s issue, the accident happened when the big truck driving ahead of the band’s two vans on the highway got its tank punctured by something sharp that flew up from the road and began leaking fuel, making the road slippery. As has been reported previously, the big red van slid all over the road and ended up well off the road up against the tire of the disabled truck. They were very lucky; it could have been much worse. As it was, the guys weren’t hurt and the van suffered only slight scrapes and dings. Here is a photo of Our Favorite Van's battle scars (shot at the next show I saw in May, also reviewed in this issue):

Igor said that at first he wasn’t afraid but then afterwards “I looked down and my hands were shaking.” It sure sounded like an experience like that would be enough to shake anyone up!

The only other “Rusty’s Regular” to grace the venue that night was Yolanda, who arrived during the first set and was at some point pulled up onstage by Oleg to dance with him. A lively “senior” lady in a blue dress was overcome with Elvii-joy and climbed up onstage of her own free will to shake what can be presumed she’s been shaking for decades. Good for her! It’s so nice to see young people of all ages enjoying themselves. Other onstage guests included a guy – I think they said his name was Jay – who joined the guys onstage and did a great job playing a saxophone for a couple of numbers and later a girl who was having a birthday and got appropriately serenaded. And at the end of the night the Rusty’s stage again proved stronger than it looks when a veritable horde of females, including myself, were invited up there to dance for the rousing end-of-show song “I Wanna See You Belly Dance.”

So like all the other Red Elvises shows at Rusty’s, this night was another one that was special and fun and a hell of a good time. We knew what we were going to get, it certainly was what we wanted, and yet we were still surprised by all the elements that make each show there a little different from the one before. This is why if you have the opportunity to see Red Elvises play, even at a venue they’ve played many times before, you should always go! Anyone who doesn’t, along with people who sit around and think up reality television programming, just doesn’t know what they’re missing.