You must be doing something worthy if you’re a metal band, and your dictatorial country designates you an “extremist group”. This is what happened to Belarus post-black metal collective, Dymna Lotva, in December 2025. The good news is they’re safe in Poland and album number four is ready for consumption.
Remarkably, the group focus their energies here on Slavonic mysticism rather than the pain of living abroad as émigrés, but they know they must carry the torch of rebellion until the Lukashenka regime is no more. Opener, ‘Zory’ seeps through the speakers under the delicate brush of acoustic guitar strings and subtle water samples. Listen to how the bass leads the way into a dense doom metal forest. Keyboard choirs haunt the spaces in the switch to double-timing drums. Lingering screams collapse under the weight of deliberate pain, while flashes of gothic beauty emerge from the surrounding aggression. A looping piano sequence competes with the drums in the tempo stakes to remind you that this is music from the darkest heart of Europe.
‘Veha’ is just as rich in its contrasting ingredients. Vocalist, Nokt (aka Katsiaryna Mankevich), delivers a masterpiece in melancholy whispers and grisly death metal growls. At seven minutes, it uses every second to make the listener feel scared and abandoned in a landscape that is not your friend. Hands attack guitar strings in relentless palm-muting. Transitions arrive through mournful keyboard atmospherics. Ex-My Dying Bride legend, Aaron Stainthorpe, is a fan. He joins them for ‘The Boat of Despair’, and this is where the true brilliance of this record reveals itself. Here, digital synth loops embroider the chunky riffing as ghostly backing vocals weave in and out of Stainthorpe’s morbid voice. Words hum in abject despair, sometimes even given the luxury of quieter dynamics that threaten a near silence that never arrives.
Dymna Lotva’s female singer and flautist is the outstanding performer on Vyraj. Her ability and range are superb. Observe how she uses her throat to wail and roar like an animal in chains. ‘Viedźmieragina’ matches her outburst in a slow-motion fury of masculine post-metal, yet the pompous symphonic accents of Nightwish are never shy to surface either. By contrast, ‘Niama Darohi’ aims to enchant with its whispered words and growling basslines. Can you hear the whistling melodies enshrouding the sparkling pianos and filthy guitar distortion? The sorrowful charms are the opposite of an Amon Amarth homage to the fallen, yet they come from the same heart.
Can they keep this up for side B? Of course they can. ‘Bu Samoje’ and ‘Ustań Za Mianie’ come in under the five-minute mark, but these songs finish when they need to, not because of any design. The former hides tremolo rhythms in its mist of doom and operates on a bass groove straight from the handbook of prog. It’s clever how the latter abandons the subtleties and lets the aching pitch bends of the guitar communicate the agony. Repeat listens will reveal how the choral chants collide with manic screams and overshadow the violence of the drum work.
Closing effort, ‘Return My Coffin Home’ flourishes under the flute of Nokt but soon erupts into a blackened doom bereavement. Though the lyrics are in Belarusian, the emotions are universal and easy to cling to thanks to some remarkable vocal keening. The song title tells you everything you need to know about the courage of this band. Dymna Lotva are refugees whose only recourse to a voice is through the power of music. The fact they choose a challenging mishmash of post-metal, prog, and black metal to release their despair is a testament to their integrity when the easy route would be to make the music secondary to the message.
Kirk Houghton
Verdict
Release Date: 07/08/2026
Record Label: Prophecy Productions
Standout tracks: The Boat of Despair; Niama Darohi; Return My Coffin Home
Suggested Further Listening: Adliga – Vobrazy (2021), Ba’al – The Fine Line Between Heaven and Here (2025), Juodvarnis – Tėkmės (2026)