“Thank you for supporting our music family,” Mykhailo writes from afar. He is unable to deliver the message in person.
The 26-year-old musician is one of the organizers behind this evening’s concert at Nulovyy, a venue set in a former industrial complex in Lviv’s Pidzamche district, and he would have loved to attend.
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However, since joining the Armed Forces of Ukraine (AFU) in 2024, he has been serving in the Zaporizhzhia region. As a result, Mykhailo will miss the concert he helped organize.
Today’s concert is staged by Erythroleukoplakia Records, a Ukrainian independent music label founded in 2019. It was established by Mykhailo and his two friends, Artur and Vlad.
Vlad was killed by Russian forces in 2023. He is one of numerous musicians from Ukraine’s punk and hardcore scene killed since the start of the full-scale invasion.
How does he feel about organizing a concert but not being able to take part in it himself?
“I am feeling kind of rueful about missing each event that Erythroleukoplakia Records organizes. But I am happy that it is still happening even though the war is going on, and that such gigs bring a lot of unity, solidarity, and love in such difficult times,” he says.
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The entrance to Nulovyy, a concert venue in Lviv. (Photo: Kathrin F. Beck)
Nulovyy is easy to miss. A narrow passageway leads onto the grounds, nestled between unassuming residential buildings and old industrial structures. Further in, the path winds through abandoned buildings, their walls covered in graffiti and marked by signs of decay. To enter the concert venue, several narrow staircases lead down into the building’s basement.
Inside, visitors first enter a dimly lit hall where merchandise is sold from a small table, while people sit on old sofas. At the back lies the concert hall itself, where crowds have already gathered ahead of the first performance. What initially appears to be an underground venue for music also serves a deeper purpose. That evening, the event also raises funds for the military.
Like Mykhailo, his mother is also serving. While he is a soldier, she is a medic.
“A part of the concert proceeds will be donated to his mother to help purchase a portable X-ray machine,” says Bohdan, 19, from Kyiv.
Concertgoers gather in a dimly lit hall before the performance begins (Photo: Kathrin F. Beck)
Mykhailo is not the only one who cannot be here today.
Miroslav, 41, is the guitarist and vocalist of No Vida, a band from the Czech Republic. Due to the drummer’s injury, the band is unable to perform.
Nevertheless, Miroslav explains why he was so keen to perform in Ukraine: “We wanted to go and play there because we believe our music can offer something to people living with the realities of war. It is risky, yes, but it also feels like a way to express solidarity and share something meaningful through what we do. To make life, with all the negativity, vanity and fragile hope reflected in our music, at least a little better for a while.”
Denys, 23, is the vocalist and guitarist of the Ukrainian hardcore punk band Kopot, who will perform first this evening.
When asked about the meaning behind their opening song, Denys offers a glimpse into a highly politicized generation of young Ukrainians: “Our first song doesn’t have a title yet, as it was written only about a month ago. It is about people not only in Ukraine, but all around the world who are suffering from genocide and war crimes, and about those who use their goals as an excuse for such actions.”
Denys during the performance with Kopot. (Photo: Kathrin F. Beck)
What significance do concerts have for people in times of war?
Denys says that concerts during wartime offer people a chance “to escape everyday reality.”
“I know many people who are currently serving in the military. If they have a few days off, they love going to concerts; you can see the smiles on their faces,” he added.
As a musician, he values seeing people’s raw emotions and having direct contact with the audience. However, he notes that organizing line-ups has become more difficult, as many musicians are now serving in the military.
Despite this challenging situation, he clarifies: “We are happy to contribute to defending our country by organizing and playing this concert.”
Bohdan, 19, is the guitarist and vocalist of the Ukrainian band Delayed Minds and helps run Erythroleukoplakia Records. Originally from the Zhytomyr region, he relocated to the Czech Republic in 2022 because of the war and now lives in Kyiv.
When asked about the meaning of music in his life, he replies: “Sometimes I can go months without listening to anything, but I can’t imagine living without it. It’s an opportunity for me to say something, to prove something, to show myself, or even just to enjoy it.”
Did the war change the way he viewed the importance of music?
“I can’t say that the war had a general impact on my love of music, but it was at the beginning of the full-scale invasion that I started actively doing something. My parents bought me my first electric guitar, and then I returned to Kyiv and became even more active. I live by this. I make a living from it.”
Bohdan and concert attendees at Nulovyy (Photo: Kathrin F. Beck).
Also 23-years old, Denys says that music has always meant a lot to him, especially since his teenage years: “I think I was around 12 or 13 when I really started to appreciate music and decided to learn my instrument, with the aim of writing my own songs in the future. Since the war began, I’ve realised that music can be the purest way to express your identity; not only ethnic, but also political. It can also be something deeply spiritual, representing strength and resistance.”
Vladislav, 37, from Kyiv, is the guitarist and vocalist of the Ukrainian grindcore band Subscum, which closes out the evening. When asked about what grindcore means to him, he says it is the perfect outlet for his frustration and sense of injustice.
Turning to the war in Ukraine and what is worth fighting for, he replies: “For me, it is not about the government, the state, or even Ukraine as an abstract concept. It is about the life we knew before the war. Maybe you have a favorite bakery where you buy your favorite croissant. Maybe you know a woman who sells you greens. You have known this woman for ages. When I think about what is worth defending, it is this everyday reality. What I want to preserve is the possibility of living that ordinary life again.”
As the evening progresses, the first warnings of a major attack on Ukraine are issued. The bombardment will later be regarded as one of the worst on Kyiv since the start of the full-scale invasion.
That night, according to Ukraine’s Air Force, Russia will launch 90 missiles, 600 drones and one missile, targeting Bila Tserkva, around 80 kilometers (50 miles) south of Kyiv. Four people will lose their lives and around 100 will be injured.
By late evening, some guests had already left the venue. Those who remain are singing, moshing and dancing, smiling with their friends. And Mykhailo, far from the venue, is holding the front line so that his friends can enjoy a rare moment of normality.
“It gives me a lot of hope and strength to do what I am doing now,” he writes.
Mykhailo during a performance. (Photo: Mykhailo’s private archive)
The suffering of many young people remains invisible that evening, concealed behind moments of joy.
But just minutes before taking to the stage with his band Subscum, Vladislav puts into words what many people here are feeling: “It is so frustrating. You just live day by day. Every day, I feel that I can’t really make plans – you could be killed by a missile at any moment. But at the same time, you realize how valuable life is when death feels possible every day.”
The views expressed in this opinion article are the author’s and not necessarily those of Kyiv Post.
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