Капсула by Дя: A Sonic Time Capsule from 2013 That’ll Mess With Your Head (In a Good Way)
Alright, let’s dive into Капсула, the wild brainchild of Russian artist Дя (Dya). Released back in 2013 as a self-released gem on Not On Label, this album is like that one friend who shows up uninvited but ends up being the life of the party. It’s got Rock grit, Electronic vibes, and enough experimental twists to keep you guessing what planet it came from. Minimalism meets Acid Jazz, Lo-Fi lounges with Krautrock, and Trip Hop crashes the scene like an awkward but lovable cousin. Yeah, it’s messy—but damn, does it work.
The lineup here is tight-knit yet eclectic: basslines laid down by Владимир Малолетков feel like they’re holding the whole thing together while also trying to break free; Михаил Лёзин handles guitar duties AND mastering, which feels kinda like letting your drummer design the album cover—risky, but somehow perfect. Татьяна Поваляева steals the spotlight with her haunting vocals and synth wizardry, making every track shimmer with eerie intimacy. Oh, and shoutout to Павел Мадуров for dropping harmonica magic on tracks 1 and 5—it’s unexpected, kinda jarring, but weirdly addictive.
Now, I gotta talk about two tracks that stuck with me because, honestly, how do you forget something like this? First up, “Карнаубский воск” (Carnaubian Wax). The title alone sounds like some sci-fi substance smuggled out of a dystopian future. This track hits hard with its hypnotic rhythm and these glitchy synths that sound like your headphones are malfunctioning—but in the best way possible. There’s this moment where Татьяна’s voice floats over everything like smoke, and suddenly you're not sure if you’re listening to music or having an out-of-body experience. It’s disorienting, yeah, but isn’t that the point?
Then there’s “В Хрустале” (In Crystal), which feels like walking through a dream where nothing makes sense but everything feels right. The bassline is so deep it could double as a heartbeat monitor, and those minimalist beats just sit back and let the atmosphere take over. Halfway through, the song shifts gears without warning, throwing in these sharp guitar riffs that cut through the haze like sunlight breaking through clouds. You don’t expect it, but once it happens, you can’t imagine the track without it.
What’s wild about Капсула is how it doesn’t try too hard to fit into any box—or genre, for that matter. It’s like Dya took all their favorite sounds, threw them into a blender, and hit puree. Sure, some tracks repeat (looking at you, “Соя” and “Транскрипция Вакансия”), but even that feels intentional, like echoes bouncing off walls in a labyrinth. By the time you reach “Нуклеиновая кислота” (Nucleic Acid), you start wondering if you’ve been listening to the same album or five different ones stitched together. And maybe that’s the beauty of it.
So, reflection time. Listening to Капсула feels less like hearing music and more like stepping into someone else’s fever dream. It’s chaotic, layered, and occasionally frustrating—but isn’t that what great art should be? Like, who needs polish when you’ve got raw energy spilling out everywhere? If anything, this album reminds me that sometimes the most memorable things are the ones that refuse to make sense.
Final thought: If aliens ever land and ask us to explain human creativity, hand them a copy of Капсула. They’ll either beam us aboard their spaceship or run screaming back to space. Either way, mission accomplished.
