Discography: Hangover in Minsk

**Biography**
The cult of melancholy in Poland’s underground scene was thrown a new spell on the cold winter of 2024 when a trio of ex‑metropolitan musicians crossed paths in Minsk. Rusted instruments, torn sheets of lead and a shared disdain for the polished sheen of mainstream metal drew them together. Early rehearsal sessions in a rented attic were rough, echoing with the distant sound of breaking glass and the metallic clang of the city’s night markets. By the summer of 2024, they had crystallized a sound that stitched the bleak emptiness of depressive black metal with oddly haunting orchestral gestures borrowed from the spectral Polish folk songs that had once seeped into the borders of their homeland. A handful of demos leaked online, sparking underground forums that debated whether the group had taken a northern approach or simply an arresting reinterpretation of existing gloom. Their debut self‑produced EP, *Scorched Silence*, dropped in early 2025, carrying a raw production that some praised for its authenticity, others criticized for technical shortcomings. Regardless, the record found its way onto playlists of metal carnivores around the world, with vinyl copies debuted in Milan’s Rue des Dunes boutique and a limited edition cassette secreted out of the Archangel’s workshop in Kraków.

**Members**
- *Krzysztof “Garniture”:** lead vocals, harsh screams threaded with guttural growls; original guitarist turned emotional anchor.
- *Marta “Thorn-Mist”:** keyboards and synth. She wove dissonant intervals that envelop the listeners like cold fog.
- *Armin „Ebon‑Glass“ K.:** acoustic and electric guitar; he crafts swirling arpeggios that become the band’s sonic lifelines.
- *Supporting drummer, August “Crumble”:** recorded the majority of the studio material and tours, steady hand hiding behind the crackling of his own heart.

**Musical Style**
Their sonic compass lies firmly in depressive black metal, yet their music refuses to be a mere replication of the genre’s tropes. Melodic basslines echo the mournfulness of Slavic anthems, while a dense layering of synthesizers creates an apocalyptic atmosphere that hinges between pastoral elegies and industrial haunt. Vocals oscillate between guttural rumblings and distant wails, hailing from a place that is both inside and outside the human ear. In turn, the rhythm section delivers a relentless, almost prayer‑like pulse—heavily influenced by neoclassical aggression and the looped patterns of the neofolk movement, which congeal into ecstatic bursts that dig deep into the listener’s subconscious. Lyrics revolve around cultural decay, personal ennui and a yearning that almost feels too volatile to admit—this spiraling vibe is what critics consider the band’s signature texture. The result: an unapologetic onslaught of sound that either threatens to engulf the listener or hovers between solace and obsession, but never strays from the path paved by its melancholic, uncompromising roots.