I would like to know

Tony Tonite City

This is a man by the name of Tony Tonite. A Russian rapper, he is ethnically Ukranian, but was raised in Brest, Belarus, and educated as an archaeologist and historian. He writes in English, and is much better known in the UK and the US than in the former territories of the USSR. He is a Muslim and a young father. His music sounds like a dispatch from the near future, where dozens of current genres have blended together into one universal style: a soundtrack for big cities — music to soothe the everyday ache of a weary soul. In his column for The World, Tony Tonite shares a few thoughts about tomorrow, and about breakthroughs that will surely come to pass, but the arrival of which cannot be hastened.

I recently became a father. It changed everything, though if you look at my life, it doesn’t really appear so. Just like before, I work, I go on tour, I meet with people. It probably wouldn’t be true to say I’m always thinking about it — about how, now that I have a son, I’ve become a father. I’m not thinking about it; it’s now just part of me — it’s new, different, and strange.

It’s different for women. I think they immediately understand everything about the baby, how to love and care for it. I’m still not sure what kind of father I am. The first time I held my son in my arms, something indescribable happened to me — it was like I was filled with an enormous energy that just spilled over into everything, and I didn’t know what to do with it. You might think, well, you’re a musician — write a song about it. And I really want to write a song for my son, but not now. I’ll definitely do it, but first I need to be sure who he is as a person, and who I am as a father.

I would like to know in advance, I’d like to know right now, what kind of father I’ll turn out to be.

I’m looking forward to when my son’s a little older and we’ll be able to play football together, to travel together, and talk about whatever we want. I’d like to be his friend, the same way my father always has been, and still is, to me. It’s important, as a parent, to be a friend, but not a best friend. With a best friend, you grow, you change, you get into trouble, you develop history, you share your secrets, and you protect theirs. I was lucky to have a friend like that, and I hope my son will too. I don’t think parents need to know absolutely everything about their kids, or that it’s necessary for kids to tell parents ev- erything about themselves. Of course, when the kid is really young, they don’t have any secrets — then when they get older, some start to show up. I think parents should respect their children’s right to keep some things private, and not to have to share everything.

Illustration Julia Semiletko

I would like to know in advance, I’d like to know right now, what kind of father I’ll turn out to be. Because the world is big and complicated and dangerous, and I hope to raise my son to be able to handle all of it. It would be cool if someone came along and guaranteed that it would all work out. But that’s impossible.

My talent is making music, a gift that was given to me by God. Not many people are really aware of how music is one of the most powerful tools for influencing the minds of people.

There was a time when I, already grown up, was in need of support, be- cause I wasn’t able to handle the temptations that were coming my way. My talent is making music, a gift that was given to me by God. Not many people are really aware of how music is one of the most powerful tools for influencing the minds of people. Yet this is precisely why musicians become idols. I sensed this in my own experience, literally from the very beginning, when it was still too early even to speak of success. And this was no less apparent when my first fans started to appear, telling me I was great, spotting me on the street, interrupting me and my friends — it was something I both enjoyed and struggled with at the same time. I found myself surrounded by too much — women, booze, parties, and some questionable projects. Then I embraced Islam, and this became the support I needed.

Then I embraced Islam, and this became the support I needed.

And yet, when I hold my son in my arms, I think about the time to come when I’ll have to let him go, send him off into his adult life, like when my parents let me go, and my father said, «The rest is up to you.» And it’s probably only then that I’ll understand what kind of father I will have turned out to be. And that will be one of my greatest discoveries.