Outdoor by The Buddhas: A Sonic Walk Through Russia’s Urban Chill
Let’s get one thing straight—Outdoor isn’t your typical album. It’s not flashy, it doesn’t scream for attention, but damn, does it make you feel something. Released in 2015 by Russian duo The Buddhas under the label Cuntroll (yeah, that name is as bold as their sound), this record blends downtempo vibes with trip-hop beats and a sprinkle of hip-hop swagger. If you’re into electronic music that feels like a lazy Sunday morning or an introspective late-night stroll, this might just be your jam.
The genres here are kinda all over the place—electronic, hip-hop—but somehow they gel together like peanut butter and jelly. Tracks like “Vanilla Radio” and “Breakfast” stuck with me because they hit different. Like, really different.
“Vanilla Radio” starts off smooth, almost too smooth. You think it’s gonna lull you into some chill trance, but then these little glitches pop up—tiny breaks in the rhythm that feel like static on an old TV screen. And honestly? That imperfection makes it memorable. It’s like the track has its own heartbeat, skipping every now and then, reminding you it’s alive. I found myself zoning out to it while staring at raindrops on my window once—it was weirdly perfect.
Then there’s “Breakfast.” Don’t let the name fool ya; this ain’t no cheerful eggs-and-bacon tune. It’s moody, slow-burning, with this bassline that crawls right into your chest. There’s something about how the synths swell in the background—it’s not happy, but it’s not sad either. It’s… complicated. Kinda like when you wake up feeling nostalgic for something you can’t quite put your finger on. This track made me miss places I’ve never even been to, which sounds dumb, but hey, that’s what good music does sometimes.
Other tracks like “Picnic,” “Evening,” and “City” keep the vibe going, each adding layers to this sonic landscape that feels both intimate and vast. It’s like walking through a city at dusk, where everything’s quiet except for the hum of neon lights and distant footsteps. But those two tracks? They’re the ones I keep coming back to.
Here’s the kicker though—listening to Outdoor feels like eavesdropping on someone else’s life. You don’t know the full story, but you catch glimpses of moments that stick with you. Maybe that’s why it works so well. Or maybe it’s just because The Buddhas managed to bottle up a specific kind of melancholy that hits you sideways when you least expect it.
Final thought? This album reminds me of that one time I got lost in a foreign city and ended up finding the best coffee shop ever. Not sure if that makes sense, but trust me, neither does life—and neither does Outdoor. And honestly? That’s probably why I love it.
