Faithful to their new wave roots, Luty Sakavik definitely feel sincere and appealing.
Belarusian music is strongly rooted in nostalgia. Lately it was lucky – the decades and genres it chose to be nostalgic about became trendy.
Belarusian coldwave (strictly rooted in ’80s post-punk) already generates strong following. It shouldn’t be surprising that the country also has a healthy (or unhealthy) number of new wave outfits.
Luty Sakavik (February March), a duo of Eryk Arłoŭ-Šymkus and Uladzimir Liankievič, is very faithful to its new wave roots. You can’t stop thinking about all these German boys with synthesisers when listening to its new LP. And while the songs might not be very catchy, they definitely feel very sincere and appealing.
Large part of this appeal is thanks to frontman’s charisma. Uladzimir Liankievič is a bright figure, potential future legend of Belarusian singing-songwriting, interesting poet and a man of dramatic fate.
His previous outfit, Tonqixod generated cult following among Belarusian intellectuals, thanks to intricate clever lyrics Uladzimir writes, and high quality art-rock music. However, art-rock is not just old, it’s ancient, so Uladzimir moved slightly ahead in time: from ’70s to ’80s, from guitar opus magnums to synthesised beats.
Essence of the music didn’t change. Belarusian intellectuals would listen to Liankievičis no matter what he plays – art-rock, new waves, or black metal. His personality and lyricism are appealing enough to traverse feeble genre boundaries.
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