Leonid Sergeev Singer Date of Birth: 30.03.1953 Country: Belarus

Biography of Leonid Sergeev

Leonid Sergeev was born in the mid-20th century in the glorious Belarusian town of Brest. He proudly introduced himself as the last defender of the legendary fortress-hero in first grade. But that was much later, and at the time, in the eventful year of 1953, 25 days after the death of I.V. Stalin, the country was feverishly searching for new heroes. And so, on March 30th, your humble servant came into the world, proclaiming his birth with a fierce cry. Two months later, the newborn's exhausted nanny told his deaf mother, "Well... he will either be a general... or an artist!". By the end of his first year, the baby quieted down a bit, and a year later, his admiring parents took him to the part of Germany that would only become a somewhat normal country at the end of the century. In 1959, his father was sent back, and the "Kazan period" began in the life of this hero of mine. Childhood and adolescence did not leave a significant mark on his soul, except for the fact that his parents completed his education at a children's music school. Therefore, I will skip straight to his youth. Oh, youth was turbulent! Breaking free from parental care, the mama's boy eagerly embraced the life of a student brotherhood. It was there that he first encountered the realities of existence. On the very first exam in the history of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, the author of these lines sincerely stated that after the war, power in Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Poland was established with the help of Soviet weapons. The teacher, a singing bird named Zvezda, choked, cleared her throat, and accused the young truth-teller of opportunism, revisionism, and left deviation without an accent. After that, she kicked him out of the exam... As a result, the hero's relationship with the history of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union did not go well, which led to the same "trio" on the state exam five years later... But in all the other delights of student life, the hero was at the forefront, with his mouth, eyes, and soul wide open. Favorite drinks like "Agdam" for 2 rubles and 2 kopeks, vodka for 3 rubles and 62 kopeks, and draft beer for 24 kopeks per liter flowed into his mouth. His eyes were dazzled by the abundance of beautiful girls, even when his eyelids were closed. And his soul was flooded with the song that was then called amateur, and now author or bard. The first songs the boy heard at home were songs by Yuri Kukin. Although they were in the arrangement of his university friend... However, even that couldn't soften the blow received from the recent slave of the piano and Mozart... and the Lord! How simple and complicated everything is! It's joyful... and painful...! - thought our hero and... of course, immediately started learning to play the guitar. First on a seven-string, rubbing his fingers into bloody calluses at night in the kitchen. Then on a six-string... And when, without looking, he finally mastered the three basic chords (A, D, and E), it was time for self-expression... His first song (1970) was naturally dedicated to her - the beautiful guitar. Fortunately, the sentimental and slobbery streams flowing from the author and the lyrics did not become the foundation for the future. The hero was then passionately led into public work in the form of amateur art. But first, he immersed himself in the romanticism of archaeological excavations. Expeditions, shards and skulls, bones and songs, pottery and moonlit embraces - all left an indelible mark on the restless soul. And when in his fourth year his academic supervisor said, "Either archaeology or amateur art," the latter immediately and forever prevailed. He defended his thesis on some peasant decrees from 1918 (!) and quickly stepped into the big life with a guitar slung over his shoulder. The further biography would be lively - written not chronologically, but in terms of events... As if, slightly delirious, recalling one thing or another that stuck in the inflamed memory of the creator. So, 1979. The year he wrote the song "Kolokolenka" and his first "opera" "Svadba" (The Wedding). It was in 1979 that I reluctantly gave my first solo concert. It happened in the glorious city of Magnitogorsk. I was supposed to fly there as the warm-up act for the brilliant author Valery Bokov. For some reason, he couldn't fly to Magnitogorsk, and I still remember the stretched face of the concert organizer Stas Mylnikov when he saw only one figure with a guitar on the airfield. Out of fear, I drummed out two departments. Since then, everything started spinning... 1983. Having already experienced television fame on the program "Veselye Rebyata" (Happy Guys), I finally decided to move to Moscow. When I arrived at the Central Television, where the Youth Editorial Office held a place for me, I was delighted to learn that my position had been cut... Those were the times of frequent purges in the journalistic community. And so, I became practically a homeless person - unemployed. And this happened during the era of stagnation! But every cloud has a silver lining. Friends arranged for me to work at a radio station, where I toiled for six years at the "Yunost" (Youth) radio station. 1986. I went to Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) to participate in the TV show "Muzikalnyy Ring" (Musical Ring). It was my first meeting with the host, Tamara Maksimova. "Get ready, you will be attacked!" - the exalted lady declared upfront. "Why?" - timid participants inquired. "Because your song does not call for barricades, it does not stir up the youth in back alleys, and rock music does all that!" - the verdict was final. And that's exactly what happened. The authors - Yevgeny Klyachkin, Alexander Rosenbaum, Viktor Fedorov, Anes Zarifyan, and myself - were mercilessly condemned by the smart Tamara and those who sang along with her. For me, the most important thing in all this chaos was that "Kolokolenka" was shown on television for the first time, and it has since become my calling card... And I still watch "Muzikalnye Ringi" with joy... 1989. I resigned from a government position without regretting it. Currently, as the talented creator of "Veselye Rebyata" Andrey Knyashev put it, I "skillfully lead the existence of a free artist." And that's where I would like to stop. Of course, it's practically impossible to fit everything that happened into dry lines (and believe me, there was a lot!). Perhaps in the future, some of my experiences will see the light of day. After all, there is still so much to tell. The work at the Kazan "Vecherka" newspaper, the Grushin Festival (a special story!), and working as a Soviet-Russian radio journalist.