Molchat Doma Broke Down Language Barriers at Revolution Live

It's remarkable that all the conversations overheard at the sold-out Molchat Doma show Thursday night at Revolution Live were in English. The trio, hailing from Minsk, Belarus, has a familiar sound. With their angular guitars and impossibly danceable synth beats, Molchat Doma is reminiscent of the dark, catchy music of postpunk favorites Depeche Mode and the Cure. 

But there is one huge caveat: All of Molchat Doma's songs are sung in Russian.

Audiences abroad have learned at least some English in order to enjoy exported American tunes. But the English-speaking world has mostly rebelled against music whose lyrics it can't comprehend. Since the beginning of rock music, it's been a complaint/running joke that you can't understand what the singer is singing anyway. Still, audiences at every concert I've attended attempt to long to sing along with memorized choruses or at least their interpretation of those lyrics. So it was fascinating to witness a concert where the audience was unable to sing along but with everyone still bobbing their heads or dancing in whatever space they had.
The prompt crowd, clad mostly in black, began the night with a set by the high-energy trio Sextile. The Los Angeles-based band relived the feel and sound of an early '90s rave. Backed by a stand-up live drummer, Brady Keehn and former Kendall resident Melissa Scaduto alternated between singing and playing a multitude of instruments as they tried their hardest throughout their 30-minute set of acid house beats to hype up the room, but as is the unfortunate fate of many openers, it was to no avail.

It turned out the crowd was saving their energy for the headliner. A few minutes after 9 p.m., the house lights dimmed, and a roar could be heard. Pavel Kozlov walked onto stage right, followed by Raman Kamahortsau on stage left. Under red lighting, Kozlov fiddled with sequencers and synthesizers while Kamahortsau strummed an electric guitar to create dark atmospherics before singer Egor Shkutko strolled onto center stage. With his long hair and beard and dressed in all black, Shkutko was reminiscent of century-old photos of Rasputin, with perhaps a hint of the recent depiction of the vampire Nosferatu. His voice was just as hypnotic and supernatural.
Though at no point in the evening did I have any idea what he was singing, there are still bits of familiarity. The deep, monotone nature of Shkutko's voice reminds me a lot of Ian Curtis of Joy Division, but there's also a hint of a chant by a Gregorian monk in his delivery. He also helps connect with the audience by emoting every note. Whether slithering like a snake standing upright on two legs or covering his head with his hands as though he can't take this world anymore, Shkutko hangs on to all the sounds his bandmates create. He was moving so much by the third song that he had to tear off his jacket, revealing a sleeveless black tank top with matching suspenders.

With the language barrier, there wasn't much onstage banter. A few songs in, Shkutko said, "Thank you so much." Midway through the set, they stopped the music when someone in the crowd passed out, but the party continued when they were revived and walked off without assistance.

Around 10:30, the three bearded members left the stage.

The crowd clapped their hands and alternated between shouting "Molchat!" and "Doma!" The band came back. Then, during the third song of the encore, "Tancevat," something remarkable happened. During the chorus, Shkutko stuck out his microphone in a stereotypical rock star move where the audience is supposed to do all the work. Somehow, all of a sudden, the whole room was fluent in Russian.