1989, last Tsoi's album. The rest was silence, death, "Black album", great pathos and thoughtful speculations on mystic topics. Still this album is sad. On the other hand, there was no reason for fun.

Everything's simple: in the last ten years, since 1989, many things have changed. Only the simplest things remain. Like songs written by "Kino".

Rock-critic A.Strukov, speaking about "The Star Named Sun", noticed that "lining up with the Sun is common for Russian tradition, so Russian folk tunes that can be heard in some songs of this album are quite normal". Wonderfully creative thought. According to this idea, "Blood Type" is full of hyperborean spirit.

But let's put aside Russian folk tunes. It's impossible for Victor Tsoi's solar hero to have particular national or racial identification. Baudelaire and Kamo Mabuti, Whitman and Shakespeare wrote on the same topics as Victor Tsoi: about Sun, night, summer and death. Because only the simplest things remain.

Anyway, 10 years ago this was a very good album. Nothing has changed. Nothing.