In the years since Monument, their 2020 debut with Sacred Bones, Molchat Doma‘s path has taken some significant turns. They’ve played at Coachella, moved from Minsk to Los Angeles, and gained a greater intercontinental following than ever before, all while growing their doomy sounds in exciting ways. The new album Belaya Polosa is the culmination of this journey, a tidal wave of big synths and heartrending twangs that carry Yahor Shkutko’s voice to new heights. It wouldn’t be right to call this record warm–the group’s edge is as icy and keen as ever–but the passion is more palpable here, the palette more expansive. Belaya Polosa is full of the trio’s most complex and overtly human sounds to date, organically integrated into the melancholy atmospheres that have always been their signature without compromising any part of it.
Perhaps the most apparent change to their sound is its newfound clarity. Retro haze and hints of tape decay have served them well since their 2017 debut, giving the group a certain mystique: How long has this top-tier new wave been buried behind the remnants of the Iron Curtain? Brushing away this layer of intrigue is a risk that pays off. Molchat Doma’s full, slightly less-mediated presence is bold and dazzling.
The throb of the opening track, “Ty Zhe Ne Znaesh Kto Ya”, feels like a direct hit to the listening body, a vital pulse that bridges the spatial gap between Molchat Doma and the listener. Shkutko’s echoing baritone is in the room, dripping with bitter heartbreak over the neon surge of synthesizers as played by both Raman Kamahortsau (who also adds guitar and drum machine to the mix) and Pavel Kazlou (doubling on bass guitar). The tight ensemble is even more electrifying for Belaya Polosa‘s more vivid hues.
While the first couple of tracks sound like cleaner cuts from Molchat Doma’s existing body of work, they take refreshing new turns after that. Eerily sweet keys glow at the beginning of “Son” ahead of the sounds of distant thunder, paving the way for Kamahortsau to take a stinging hand to his axe with outlaw country-adjacent rock riffs. It’s a heartrending touch of heat, a warm front of bleakness sparking a storm of the same as Shkutko sings of a terrible dream in a hopeless, war-torn world. The guitar returns, this time weaving more slowly between pinpricks of twinkling synth notes, on the lyrical title track, which comes as close as Molchat Doma have ever been to a pure ballad.
Shadowy instrumental “Beznadezhnyy Waltz” follows, a haunting mix of piano and theremin sounds that offer a breath of spooky air before the band gets the goth club moving once more with the midtempo rocker “Chernye Tsvety” and then the insistent beats of “III”. The closing tracks take the group back to their industrial foundations with the aching “Ne Vdvoem”, percussive “Ya Tak Ustal”, and the weighty closer “Zimnyaya”. In some ways, it’s a full circle, but certainly one more enlightening about Molchat Doma’s range for the journey.
Molchat Doma have always been an exciting band that knows how to put its influences to good use. A vintage sound, though, has its limits, and the group have wisely chosen not to test theirs beyond reason. Belaya Polosa strips away the veil and leaves us face-to-face with the artists here and now. They can take it. It’s a promising demonstration of how much they’ve learned in their seven years of releasing music to bigger and broader audiences. This album proves Molchat Doma’s potency as a hard-hitting act for this moment.