(1960 - 1988)

Though greatly influenced by Vysotsky and not a less prominent author and performer, Alexander Bashlachev did not enjoy such epidemic popularity. The audience of this subtle poet would never ever possibly make a crowd of fans crying out their favourite songs all together. Perhaps it is for the fact that Bashlachev never aspired for speaking something understandable to all and thus popular. He appears to avoid shallow sociality and publicity. Most of his songs are truly confessional, incomparable to the ostentatious confessional genre that became so fashionable at the times of perestroyka. Though bearing some traits of folklore, his songs are deeply personal. If you listen to the amateurish records made at rare kvartirniks (underground concerts at friends' flats) you will not hear the audience sing together with Bashlachev (though it was common for most concerts of author's song) - most of the time the listeners sit still as if spellbound by the poet. Bashlachev was uniquely sensitive in his work on words. Word was an alive creature for him. He was the first to join rock music and the poetic nerve. Sasha Bashlachev revived the Old Russian tradition of poets, that of reciting verses in the rhythm of breathing. He wrote and sang like no one else, boldly looking into awe-inspiring abysses of life and death. Alexander Bashlachev, also known as SashBash among his friends and fans, was not a tall man. Many people still can't but recall his bashful smile and three little bells he wore on his neck. He was born in the town of Cherepovets, lived for 27 years and did away with himself in Leningrad city by jumping out of a window on the ninth floor of his house. He left around sixty verses and poems after his death. All of them fitted into a thin book published in 1990. It is difficult to speak about popularity of Bashlachev, though Moscow and St.- Petersburg audience warmly welcomed him. He performed in Taganka theatre and at Leningrad rock-festival and heard praises from other talented authors. However, he seemed meaningly standing aside from numerous bards, poets and rock musicians of his days. Not long before his death Bashlachev was stricken by poetic dumbness. He wrote almost nothing and tried not to perform his old songs. During those two years when Bashlachev wrote almost all his songs he lived under such a strain that it was hardly possible to avoid exhaustion. He gave away too much and too fast. 'Poets live and must remain alive', - SashBash would sing.