At Roadrunner, The Belarussian trio filled the shadowy basement of a towering brutalist skyscraper of sound, reverberating with Soviet-sounding synths.
If you weren’t wearing all black to Molchat Doma’s concert on Feb. 15 in Roadrunner’s cavernous and smoke-filled space, you were at the wrong gig.
The music of Belarussian trio Molchat Doma is the perfect soundtrack for when you’re taking long drags of a damp cigarette in a snowclad, post-Soviet apartment in the former Eastern Bloc. It’s moody and dark, full of retro synths and reverb soaked vocals.
Molchat Doma are the underbelly of punk, electronica, and synth-pop, capturing a brutalist Eastern European aesthetic that has exploded in popularity. Perhaps a band that would’ve been censored in the Soviet era, they run that risk even today (they haven’t returned to Belarus since 2021). Molchat Doma reclaim a dreary Soviet aesthetic in their sound and album artwork.
Molchat Doma filled their set at Roadrunner with hits from their 2019 album Этажи (Etazhi, meaning “Floors”), their 2024 album Белая Полоса (Belaya Polosa, meaning “White Stripe”), as well as their music from their beginning explorations as a band. They juxtapose songs about suicide, depression, and the cruelty of time with their more joyous numbers like “Танцевать,” whose singular message is clear: dance. Whether optimistic or anguished, their songs were unified by a catchy drum machine, programmed by the band’s guitarist Roman Komogortsev. Over the top were soaring synths, earworm guitar riffs, and deep-pocketed basslines from Pavel Kozlov. Lead singer Egor Shkutko’s mournful and monotone vocals, lost in a reverb mist, were the defining sound of the band. Vampiric with his slight frame and cascading hair, Shtkutko’s stage presence was patient and focused, as he morphed from statuesque delivery to some spindly dancing.
Despite the intensely angsty aesthetic of the band, the scene at Roadrunner was hoodied but uproarious. Songs like “Ты Же Не Знаешь Кто Я” and “Колесом,” unapologetic with their in-your-face 80s synth sound and 8-bit video-game-like riffs, whipped the crowd into a frenzied dance, pained lyrics and ghostly vocals aside. More ethereal numbers, such as “Сон” and “Черные Цветы,” padded the set. Slow moving and heartfelt, these songs were the closest the band came to balladeering, where the drum machine took a backseat and the lyricism wafted unregimented. But before getting completely lost in the haunting and hypnotic vocals, the crowd was revived with pulsating techno numbers like “Дискотека.”
Between the songs, swells of penetrating bass and industrial ambience left you bleary-eyed, before a bubbling drum machine riff broke through. The drum machine loops, which often introduced the songs, ran the risk of becoming repetitive but somehow never did. They were instantly recognized by the crowd, much more than the melodies and hooks themselves. The perfect example of this was their fan-favorite and encore-ending hit “Судно,” which set the poetry of Russian poet Boris Ryzhy to music. It contained all of Molchat Doma’s signature characteristics: the indefatigable drum machine, the piercing guitar riffs, and Shkutko’s inner mounting vocals, building from a monotone drawl into a pained earnestness.
“We are Molchat Doma band from Minsk, Спасибо! [thank you]” was the only between-song communication from Shkutko. “Спасибо!” the crowd at Roadrunner shouted back.