In Belarus in 2020, there were indeed many works inspired by the current events, numbering in the hundreds over just a few months. This was quite expected, predictable, and understandable. Creativity responds very sensitively to significant political and social processes, reflecting openly on the topic. Musical responses serve as emotional mirrors—quick, immediate reflections of mass sentiments. But can such reactions be of high quality? Not always.

In my view, only a few works that appeared as quick reactions to the events of 2020 deserve attention. This is understandable: the author simply lacks time for deep reflection, driven by emotions and a fear of missing the moment to convey an important statement fitting the time. That’s why most of these quick reactions have already faded from memory: they happened and that’s it.

What about now? The accumulated aggression and emotional vulnerability have not yet been transformed into widespread quality reflection. There are a few successful cases, such as the album »Priyom!« by Sveta Ben and Gali Chikis, or the debut album of the group Polyn. But overall, the moment for straightforward or even veiled statements on painful topics has been missed. It is relevant for slower genres like literature, but mass culture needs to be more flexible, quick, and inventive.

Why did this happen? Belarusian musicians found themselves in a very difficult situation. On one hand, forced emigration led some of them to focus on organizing their personal lives and addressing day-to-day issues rather than creative ones—rebuilding their bands, finding new audiences, fundraising without clear sources of financing or business models. Obviously, in such circumstances, creativity takes a backseat to existential concerns.

On the other hand, musicians still in Belarus faced extreme state censorship, which led to self-censorship. Statements could not be straightforward or even veiled, as the risks were too high—risks even greater than those faced by underground artists during the late Soviet period. As a result, this multilayered filtering of meanings led to a refinement and tameness in the creative process.

Clearly, in such conditions, creating high-quality, talented, and relevant music was beyond Belarusian musicians’ capability. By the time they had adapted to these new and extreme conditions, the moment was gone, and creative energy–largely depleted. Thus, themes of fatigue, depression, and denial have come to the forefront.

Another nuance is important as well. Many Belarusian musicians in exile are forced to compete not only among themselves but also with internationally relevant artists. Not all are able to withstand this competition. Why? First, due to the limited thematic content of their work.

It’s too contextual and caters only to an internal market. Second, due to a limited artistic toolkit and worldview. Not all are well-versed in contemporary global music and able to adopt new creative approaches. Due to this most musicians cater to the emigrant bubble and don’t go beyond it.

Many musicians within Belarus are unwilling to make deals with the state or seek new audiences in Russia. They rather choose to put their careers on hold, change repertoires and stay in a waiting mode. However, there are other cases as well.

Bezkorovainy’s prediction came true: our music (not on a mass scale, but in certain cases) has reached the international level, and here I can share several very successful examples.

If earlier we used to talk about niche artists appealing to European audiences, now we are observing phenomenal success. Let’s start with the spontaneous but important case of Anton Matsuilevich, drummer of IQ48 , who accidentally wrote a multi-platinum hit for the American rapper Fetty Wap and was nominated for a Grammy—the first Belarusian in history to achieve this. Everything has been on the rise since then.

The second super-successful case is Max Korzh , an independent Belarusian artist with phenomenal popularity and a highly active fan base. By far, he is the most popular artist in Eastern Europe with a genuine audience. This is evidenced by countless stadium sell-outs, even now, in an era of mass restrictions.

The third super-successful case is the international success of the band Molchat Doma. The band has phenomenal streaming statistics, which convert into a real audience worldwide. Thousands of people attend their concerts in the USA, Mexico, Chile, China, and Australia. This is not regional but international success. For the first time, Belarusian artists have entered the Billboard charts, which is also a significant achievement for popular music from Belarus.

As for me, I also remain optimistic about Belarusian music. Many Belarusian musicians have now found themselves in a European environment and are, one way or another, gaining unique experiences they did not have before. In the long run, this could lead to the emergence of new interesting names who will work for the global audience and do so with talent.

I wouldn’t actually say that interest in Belarusian folk music is currently growing. Regional trends are still closely tied to political agendas and reflect the focus on specific events. At the moment, Belarus is clearly not in the spotlight, so a sustained trend, as opposed to sporadic success of individual musicians or groups, is simply impossible.

There is a certain demand for authenticity in the domestic market, but this can be explained by the search for a comfort zone in new conditions, painful flashbacks from 2020, and an intuitive desire to preserve one’s cultural identity. However, I cannot say that in recent years Belarus has seen the emergence of many interesting authentic folk projects. It’s more about new pop artists incorporating national motifs into their work, but here, in my opinion, there is a lack of depth and understanding of how to integrate authentic material into the modern context, making it appealing and competitive. These are weak attempts to meet an illusory demand from the mass audience.

I believe it’s too early to talk about the full formation of two equal and independent music scenes. They are still connected by a common context and respond to the same agenda. Obviously, the landscape is different, and the ways of distributing music differ as well. But overall, dividing music into »here« and »there« is both ungrateful and premature. I think it will take 7–10 years for the semantic gap to fully form, so that we can talk about fully developed domestic and emigrant music scenes. However, the trend is not encouraging: the gap is forming too quickly. Why?

Any ecosystem needs regular, effective neural connections to develop. If this doesn’t happen, we are no longer talking about a system or structure but rather about phenomena. Clearly, at this stage, the transmission of meanings is weak, creative communities are fragmented and ineffective, and what we call »Belarusian music« is breaking into thousands of pieces.

Photos: Screenshot von Sveta Ben and Galya Chikis–Glitter Blob Official Lyric Video.