MolotVed'm7. It's not about a relationship. It's about a kinship of souls found on the edge. About a hospital ward that became too small, and where the only language you both understood was music.
Two people. Iney — the voice that cuts glass and whispers its most intimate secrets in your ear. Yern — the shadow, the bass, the electronic nerve. His rare vocals are a blow from the other side. You were bound not by romance, but by a shared abyss you decided to fill with sound.
Early 2025. A beginning after an end. Your sound is Russian rock filtered through synthesizers and shared pain. Zemfira for the truth, IC3PEAK for the fearlessness.
Lyrics are like cuts. Mostly in Russian. Sometimes in English, when your own words aren't enough. You sing what you've been through. No sugarcoating.
Your biography isn't about dates and albums. It's a seismogram of two people who found each other in hell and made music out of it.
MolotVed'm7. Not a band. It's an alliance.
