November 1994 — the First Issue of the Magazine Ne Spat!

Dmitry Shalya:
"The nightlife of late 1994 was a spectacular sight. Deft businessmen making money literally out of thin air brought it to spend at establishments with fantastical prices and unbelievable levels of service, like Karusel or Moskovsky. The atmosphere that reigned there could perhaps only be described by Ostrovsky, that bard of merchant life. To cries of "Don't stand in the way of my whims," whole fortunes were drunk away here in a single night. And towards morning the tired but self-satisfied "New Russians" set off to swindle the next sucker. It was fun there, but a little dangerous. In particular, the waiters weren't entirely sure what they'd get along with the bill — a generous tip or a dose of lead between the eyes. Somewhere nearby, members of the intelligentsia, dazed by the freedom that had suddenly landed on them, crammed into the cramped basement of Bely Tarakan to discuss, yet again, the pressing problems of the universe, and peacefully fell asleep face-down in their salad. And since nobody had any money, the phrase most often used here was "Put it on my tab." It was fun here too, but somehow too brutal — the editorial staff of Ne Spat! didn't share the sixties-generation's delight at the availability of vodka at six in the morning. We were young and frivolous. Our finances didn't allow us to throw money around at Karusel. Drinking vodka till dawn hadn't yet become a habit. And so we were drawn to the third component of the nightlife of the time. Its name was rave.
To be honest, back then I didn't really understand what it was. The Iron Curtain hadn't quite lifted yet, and rumours about European youth being carried away by mysterious shuffling in hangars trickled into Moscow reluctantly. True, the famous "Gagarin Party" had already taken place. Penthouse and Ermitazh were already operating on Karetny Ryad. The gilded youth understood perfectly well the difference between Bogdan Titomir mugging on the TV screen and the genuinely fashionable disc jockeys. And we couldn't wait to convey this understanding to the rest of humanity.
Indeed, it was this aspiration that served as the basis for the programmatic article with the wonderful title "Rap is Leaving. Rave is Coming" in the pilot issue of the magazine (November 1994). Frankly, its meaning was entirely exhausted by the title, since the author of the article confessed to readers that "it is impossible to find a definition for the word 'rave.'" What is known for certain, however, is that by the word "rap" he meant the "euro-beat" that had filled the gangster clubs, with all those Dr. Albans at its head. But the direction was set clearly: "Having caught the rave wave, club music changed sharply. Some DJs, betraying themselves, began to play rave specifically." And even those who pine for rap are forced to submit to the influence of the times. The main thing, as everyone knows, is that it should get you 'clubbing'…"