A paradise for music lovers and pirates. What happened to the legendary "Gorbushka," and what fate awaits it now?

In the late 1980s, the first secretary of the Moscow City Committee, Viktor Grishin, decreed the establishment of the Moscow Rock Laboratory in the Filievsky House of Culture named after Gorbunov. It was the third such organization in the USSR, following those in Leningrad and Sverdlovsk. The objective was to monitor the concert activities of informal groups and youth subcultures.

Future rock stars graced the stage of the Gorbunov House of Culture: "Nautilus Pompilius," "Zvuki Mu," "Krematoriy," DDT, "Bravo..." Within its walls, the "Nashestvie" festival was born. In the late 1990s, global stars like Nick Cave and Jethro Tull made appearances.

The authorities deliberately chose the Gorbunov House of Culture, which belonged to the Khrunichev factory. Rock musicians were invited there due to the efforts of the factory's Komsomol committee secretary and avid music lover Igor Tonkikh. He later became a prominent producer and can be considered the second father of "Gorbushka." He also organized the "Record" club for audiophiles in the fall of 1987. Soon, collectors of sound recordings and vendors flocked to the corridors of the House of Culture: some wanted to buy, others to sell. This is how "Gorbushka" spontaneously emerged. Its followers soon found it cramped and spilled out into Filievsky Park, eventually reaching the concrete area near the "Bagrationovskaya" metro station. The overall market turnover exceeded $1 million a month.

Many articles in the press covered the figures behind the old "Gorbushka." For example, Tigran Dokhalov, according to contemporaries' memories, was the first to trade in the park from a car, with originals brought to him by flight attendants from international flights. He later became one of the first official film distributors. His namesake, Tigran Mkrtchyan, was also well-known. According to capital media (which is confirmed by the SPARK database), he settled matters with local authorities, founded the "Gorbushka-Expo" firm, and collected fees from street vendors for their spots on the street. Less is mentioned about Garegin Grigoryan, yet he was the one who patented the trademark "Gorbushka."

— Every Saturday morning, several shady characters would arrive at "Gorbushka" with new films on low-quality tapes. "Zeros" were recorded from original video discs and were highly valued. By the next Saturday, the first copies from the "zero" would be available for sale — priced significantly cheaper, with decent quality. But then second and third copies would appear with terrible picture quality. People bought these either out of ignorance or to see the latest films before their friends, — nostalgically recalls 71-year-old Vladimir, a former pirate from "Gorbushka."

Pirated discs and tapes were produced at "Gorbushka" as if industrially. Rumors circulated that they were manufactured at the same factories as the "licensed" products, just in different shifts. However, the market was predominantly filled with artisan lone pirates.

— You buy a "burner," which cost a fortune at the time. You insert an original disc or tape into one slot and empty blanks into the other nine. You start recording, and after a couple of hours, it's done. Then you do it again. I had several "burners" at my rented apartment, — remembers Vladimir.

At the old good "Gorbushka" of the 90s, you could find a collection of all Led Zeppelin hits on one CD, a newly released Arnold Schwarzenegger film on VHS tape, rare games for any console, adult films, and even a real database from the Ministry of Internal Affairs. "Gorbushka" was both a youth hangout and a collector's club for those over forty, as well as a massive flea market. Nowadays, people say everything can be found online, but back then, it was said that everything was at "Gorbushka."

The market operated in freezing cold and pouring rain, but only on weekends. Up to half a million buyers would come each day, greeted by 2500 vendors, most of whom were street stall owners.

In 1997, "Gorbushka" was recognized by the Guinness Book of Records for the fastest piracy: even Bill Gates was probably shocked. He barely announced the launch of sales for the new Microsoft Office, and within four hours, pirate copies appeared on the legendary market at a price ten times lower than the original.

"Gorbushka" was so cool that it had its own music chart, rivaling the popularity of radio station charts.

The computer games sector at the old "Gorbushka" is a story in itself. Back then, only pirates localized foreign games. Every schoolchild knew the name of the pirate studio "Fargus." Their translation quality was so high that a phenomenon emerged: pirate versions of pirate discs. It even got to the point where pirates sued each other over intellectual rights.

"Gorbushka" was also at the forefront of film translations. Real experts worked for its pirate firms, such as the main voices of the VHS era: Pavel Sanaev, Alexey Mikhalev, and Andrey Gavrilov.

The old market occupied, by various estimates, up to two hectares. Vendors sold along the alleys of Filievsky Park. Sales were conducted from cars in the square near the Gorbunov House of Culture. Electrical goods were sold from trucks by the "Bagrationovskaya" metro station. The most privileged were the vinyl sellers, who comfortably settled inside the House of Culture.

This form of "Gorbushka" lasted for about 15 years, until 2001. Its role in the cultural growth of Russians is hard to overestimate. Thanks to it, former Soviet citizens, many of whom barely made ends meet, were able to sample world cinema, music, and software for a pittance. Among its visitors was even Vladimir Rushailo, the then Minister of Internal Affairs of Russia.

The sentence for the old "Gorbushka" was pronounced in December 2000 when the city government banned the sale of audio-visual products from stalls and cars. From January 1, vendors were ruthlessly chased away by the police. In February, a feeble rally against the market's closure drew about five hundred people. The story was aired on federal television. The situation was exploited by two commercial structures vying for the legacy.

On one side were the aforementioned Garegin Grigoryan and Tigran Mkrtchyan. The former purchased a small building near the "Rubin" factory and established his still-existing LLC "Gorbushka" there. The latter founded a whole heap of long-defunct companies: "Gorbushka-Expo," TVC "Gorbushka," "Gorbushka-3, -4, -5, -6, and -7."

On the other side was Israeli citizen Alexander Milyavsky. He privatized a large building of the "Rubin" factory, converted it into the "Lya-Lya Park" shopping row, and invited street vendors there. He was accused of lobbying for the closure of the old "Gorbushka," which he denied.

According to archival articles, vendors paid Tigran Mkrtchyan's structures $37 for each square meter of their street stalls. Allegedly, they were charged $56 for the first floor and $46 for the second in the "Rubin" premises, and they were required to operate daily.

Grigoryan's "Gorbushka