The eclectic band from Kyiv, Vøvk presents “Litera,” an album that carefully maps cycles of struggle, loss, hope, and renewal through its music. Across the seven tracks, the band combines Progressive Rock and Post-Hardcore with touches of other genres, creating a sound that is intricate yet accessible, and emotionally resonant despite being entirely in Ukrainian. Collaborative elements, including choir arrangements and guest appearances from Johannes Persson (Cult of Luna) and Anton Slepakov, add depth and texture, reflecting a spirit of solidarity and shared expression. “Litera” is both a personal and collective statement, marked by nuanced dynamics, thoughtful arrangements, and a focus on the emotional core of each composition.
Can you tell us about the formation of Vøvk and the early stages of the band? What motivated you to start making music together?
Vøvk formed in 2016, when musicians from different bands and genres came together with the desire to merge their influences and creative ambitions. Although we began as a stoner rock group, we quickly gravitated toward unconventional musical forms and gradually arrived at the eclectic blend that now defines our sound. After establishing ourselves on the local scene, we released our debut album Lair (2019), which was nominated for Best Heavy Album of the Year at The Best Ukrainian Metal Act awards. We also recorded a cover of DakhaBrakha’s “Sho Z-Pod Duba,” toured Europe in 2019 and 2022, and saw our music featured in S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2: Heart of Chornobyl – a significant cultural milestone for us. The current lineup came together shortly before Russia’s full-scale invasion. Despite a forced pause, we never considered stepping away from music, and since February 24, 2022, many of our shows have supported the Ukrainian Armed Forces. In October 2025, we released our second album Litera – a conceptual work exploring the emotional landscape of Ukraine in wartime, driven by our ongoing motivation to create honest, resonant music.
How has the band’s sound evolved from your first recordings to “Litera”?
Our debut album Lair was a period of searching – we experimented with different genres, unexpected arrangements, and the boundaries of our sound. With Litera, that search transformed into a clear sense of identity. The new material reflects a natural evolution: more refined structures, denser dynamics, deeper emotional tension, and a stronger sense of catharsis. Musically, we moved away from our stoner rock roots and dove deeper into progressive rock, post-hardcore, and a spectrum of adjacent styles – from post-rock to shoegaze and grunge. Litera became a cohesive, multilayered story: a symbolic journey through elements and emotional states, where struggle, loss, pain, hope, and renewal unfold like natural cycles. Images of earth, water, fire, animals, and landscapes create a space where each listener can find their own reflection. One of the most defining shifts is the language. While Lair was written in English, Litera is fully in Ukrainian – a conscious and meaningful step toward authenticity. We didn’t want to be another band that “sounds like someone else”; we wanted to sound like ourselves, and this album became a statement of exactly who we are.
Kyiv has a rich musical history. How has the city influenced your artistic direction and creative approach?
Kyiv has always been a cultural crossroads. Since Ukraine’s independence, the city became a place where musicians from all over the country met, mixed, and exchanged ideas – bringing together very different regional backgrounds. This created a unique, eclectic musical environment that shaped how we think about sound and creativity. The renaissance of Ukrainian music came in several waves. In the 2000s, Kyiv’s scene was driven by a powerful blend of grunge and alternative rock – bands like Kryhitka or Dymna Sumish – alongside nu metal and adjacent genres like TOL. That music resonated far beyond subcultures; it carried a spirit of protest at a time when the aggressive influence of the Russian entertainment industry was still very strong. Choosing Ukrainian music back then already felt like an act of resistance. A second boom followed after the Revolution of Dignity, when bands from the Neformat community began to rise – with roots in punk, hardcore, screamo and stoner rock: Bluesbreaker, Maloi, Stoned Jesus. Scenes and people overlapped constantly: it was natural to listen across genres, to go to different kinds of shows, and not limit yourself to a single musical identity. That openness became part of our DNA as musicians. Growing up in this environment taught us to experiment, to explore different approaches, and to search for our own voice within a landscape of diversity. Kyiv shaped us not just with its history, but with its spirit of curiosity, hybridity, and creative freedom.
The album is described as an emotional landscape reflecting struggle, loss, hope, and renewal. Can you elaborate on how these themes shaped the songwriting process?
Most of the songs had their backbone before 2022, but during the full-scale war they grew muscles of meaning. You can’t stay untouched by sirens, blackouts, messages from friends on the frontline, or the constant weight of uncertainty – all of this seeps into the music whether you invite it or not. As artists, we felt responsible to reflect our time. Nature became the lens through which we processed these experiences: drought and fire, water and ice, exhaustion and anger, cleansing and renewal. Many Ukrainians still carry the sensation of the blackout winter of 2022 – when time felt frozen even though the seasons kept turning – and Litera became our way of exploring that emotional landscape. The creation process itself mirrored these themes. Air raids stopped rehearsals, power outages cut studio sessions, and difficult news shaped the emotional tone of the songs. Every challenge – the pandemic, lineup changes, the invasion – added depth and tension to the record. In the end, Litera became more than an album; it became a chapter of our lives written under the shadow of war, a reflection of how we kept creating while the world around us was burning.
How did the concept of “letters as building blocks of culture” influence the lyrical or musical composition?
Could you describe your process for writing lyrics in Ukrainian, given the universal emotions they aim to convey?
The concept of litera – a single letter as the foundation of language – shaped the way we approached both lyrics and structure. We treated every symbol, emotion, and image as a small unit of meaning that gradually forms a bigger story. Instead of speaking directly about struggle or hope, we used metaphors and a more atmospheric, sensory language that allows the listener to feel the emotional shifts rather than just register them. Our influences also lie in the depth of Ukrainian cultural tradition, particularly its poetry – from Stus and Chubai to Antonych, Skovoroda, and Kateryna Kalytko. Their precision and metaphorical richness inspired us to craft lyrics that carry layered subtext. Even single symbols, like the stork – a classical image of home and belonging – become anchors for stories about memory, displacement, and resilience. In the end, the album’s vocabulary is built from these cultural and emotional building blocks, forming a narrative that feels both intimate and universal. Maybe it’s a bold dream, but we’d love it if an international listener, after reading the translations of our lyrics, became more interested in Ukrainian literature.
“Litera” spans Progressive Rock, Post-Hardcore, and touches of other genres. How did you approach blending these styles while maintaining cohesion?
When you write from emotion, genres naturally become secondary. Our approach was simple: we shaped each song in the form that expressed its feeling best, and only afterward could anyone add labels like “prog” or “post-hardcore.” That’s why Litera blends unconventional structures, lyrical depth, odd time signatures borrowed from progressive rock, and the raw nerve and intensity rooted in old-school post-hardcore – it’s just the palette that helped us say what we needed to say. Right now, we feel comfortable existing between genres rather than inside them. Cohesion comes not from stylistic rules, but from emotional honesty and a shared sense of direction. If listeners hear echoes of prog or post-hardcore in this mix, that’s great – but in the end, it’s their ears that decide where the record truly belongs. Our hope is simply to offer something unique, especially within the Ukrainian heavy scene.
Choirs and guest vocalists play a prominent role on the album. How did these collaborations come together, and what was the intention behind including these voices?
We wanted every song on Litera to feel unique, and bringing in the right people was essential to that vision. All the choir parts were recorded by four vocalists from bands close to us: Yehor Pavliuchkov (Zwyntar), Oleksii Bohomolnyi (Omana), Artem Dudko (Straytones), and Serhii Dudko (Svitaie). It was important for us to include not just voices, but personalities – warm, distinctive, and full of their own character. Even if a listener can’t pick out each singer individually, their combined presence gives the choir a depth and charisma that feels unmistakably theirs. The intention behind these collaborations was simple: to broaden the emotional palette of the album. Guest vocals and choral parts add dimension, turning certain moments into events and certain songs into shared spaces – where the story is carried not only by our voices, but also by those of the artists whose music and worldview resonate with our own.
Johannes Persson sings in Ukrainian for the first time on “Promin.” How did this collaboration come about, and what was the creative process like?
The connection with Johannes happened very quickly – one message on Instagram, and soon we were already discussing the song and its meaning. From the start, we felt that Promin needed a special guest: someone with a distinctive voice and the emotional depth to convey a sense of support and unity. We were certain Johannes could be that voice. For us, this collaboration goes far beyond music. Johannes is an important figure in modern heavy music, and his participation is also a conscious gesture of support for Ukraine. He understands the context of the war and why it matters that Ukrainian artists are heard internationally. Interestingly, he usually sings in English when appearing as a guest on other projects. Performing in Ukrainian pushed him outside his comfort zone and gave him a new experience – and it made this collaboration stand out from anything he’d done before. We didn’t want it to feel like a formal experiment, so we explained every nuance of the lyrics, provided a detailed translation, and even recorded slow audio pronunciation in different intonations – a sort of mini Ukrainian lesson. He was a bit worried about articulation and accent, but he delivered beautifully. His voice remained instantly recognizable, yet carried a new emotional color. In the end, we feel the result is honest, authentic, and deeply meaningful – both artistically and symbolically.
Anton Slepakov closes the album with a monologue. What significance does this final moment hold in the context of the record?
The final part of the album is built around two collaborations, and “Okean” – featuring Anton Slepakov – serves as the emotional and conceptual closing gesture. Anton has been a defining figure of the Ukrainian underground since the early years of independence. His unmistakable, penetrating voice has a way of making the listener pause and focus on every word, which is exactly what we wanted for the album’s final moment. Anton wrote and performed his own monologue, turning it into the album’s final curtain. His text ties together the thematic threads that run throughout the entire cycle – exhaustion, fragility, the search for meaning, and the quiet tension between hope and despair. In “Okean,” the image of the dried-up reservoir after the destruction of the Kakhovka Dam becomes a metaphor for inner emptiness: the ocean as one’s inner world, its drying as emotional depletion. The rusted whaling ship and the whale bones on the shore evoke broken hopes, a fading sense of adventure, and the world’s indifference to tragedy. His presence brings a raw clarity that exposes the album’s core: the human cost of everything we’ve been living through. Ending with Anton’s voice was a deliberate choice – he guides the listener toward the final act, offering closure while leaving the emotional space open for reflection.
Maksym Chukhlib contributes spoken word on “Leleka.” How did you decide where spoken word would enhance the storytelling?
“Leleka” is one of the most narrative-driven tracks on Litera, so spoken word felt like a natural way to deepen its storytelling. The song reflects on how even when great waters wash away cities and reshape the land, they still can’t erase memories or touch the sky – a space where only birds remain truly free. To convey this tension between past optimism and the darkness of present reality, we invited Maksym Chukhlib – a Ukrainian journalist and musician – whose warm, velvety voice captured exactly the atmosphere we needed. His narration becomes the emotional hinge of the song, a voice from “before” that makes the contrast of “after” even sharper. But spoken word wasn’t the only layer. Near the finale, the narrative expands into a collective experience through a choir of our friends – the voices of Zwyntar, Omana, Straytone, and Svitaie. Their presence turns the story of the stork into something communal, a reminder that memory, grief, and hope are shared. For us, that’s where spoken word truly enhances the song: it opens the door for a more intimate connection, and then the choir widens that space into something universal.
Many tracks feature dynamic shifts from delicate passages to intense climaxes. How do you approach structuring songs to balance tension and release?
For us, tension and release always begin with emotion rather than with technique. Behind every metaphor in the music is a real experience, and we’re not building a fantasy world – we’re trying to understand reality from the inside. That’s why our songs grow from a dialogue between two forces: the raw impulse and the reflective concept. We consciously work with this contrast. Intuition gives us the fragile, quiet passages; structure allows us to shape the intensity that follows. The balance between the two creates movement – a sense that something is shifting beneath the surface. For listeners who understand Ukrainian, the lyrics resonate instinctively; for those who don’t, the emotional arc still communicates on its own. That’s our goal: meaning that does not depend on translation, carried through musical dynamics as much as words.
Odd time signatures and unconventional arrangements appear throughout the album. Are there particular musical influences that inspired these choices?
When we write, genres are secondary. The song has to take the shape that expresses the emotion best, and only afterward can someone attach labels. That’s why our sound blends unconventional structures, lyrical intensity, odd meters from prog, and the raw nerve of old-school post-hardcore – but whether those definitions fit is ultimately for the listener to decide. Our influences come from very different corners of music: the dreamy heaviness of Deafheaven and Alcest; the melodic punch of The Smashing Pumpkins; the density of Mastodon; the restless energy of Quicksand and Fugazi; the whirlwind chaos of The Mars Volta; and of course classic prog like King Crimson and Rush. There are also more unexpected signposts – The Who, The Police, Talk Talk. All these layers shape us, but the main goal is to mold them into something of our own.
What was it like working with Roman Bondar at Lizard Audio for recording, mixing, and mastering? Did the studio environment shape the album’s sound?
Working with Roman Bondar at Lizard Audio was a defining part of this album. Our recording process stretched across some of the most difficult years of our lives – the pandemic, lineup changes, and then the full-scale invasion. Air raids, artillery strikes on Kyiv, and constant blackouts repeatedly interrupted our studio sessions. Mixing often stopped simply because there was no electricity. In that sense, the studio environment didn’t just shape the album’s sound – it shaped the album’s story. Roman brought tremendous patience, professionalism, and emotional sensitivity to the process. He was able to hold the project steady even when everything around us was unstable. Thanks to his craft, the album came to life despite circumstances that could have easily derailed it. In the studio we intentionally worked with layers – idiophones, synths, percussion – to create a sense of fragility, motion, and depth. We’re comfortable with the fact that the live and studio versions will differ, but we tried to preserve as much of the atmosphere as possible. Even the tracklist was built to carry the album’s dramatic arc onto the stage. From the earliest writing sessions to the final touches in 2023, the surrounding reality of war left a mark on every sound. The album became a whole chapter of our lives, and the studio – especially with Roman at the helm – became the place where all those emotions were transformed into music.
How much of the album was arranged before entering the studio versus developed organically during recording sessions?
We’re real workaholics, and we do everything we can to avoid surprises in the studio. By the time we crossed its threshold, every part – from the first note to the last – was fully arranged and refined. We spent a lot of time working on our own, polishing every detail so that the studio process could become more of a pleasant formality than a struggle. The only truly unpredictable – and most inspiring – moments were the sessions with the guest musicians on the album. Those days were warm, friendly, and creatively energizing, adding a sense of shared spirit that you can definitely feel in the final result.
How do you envision performing “Litera” live, especially considering the collaborative vocal parts?
Fans can expect an intense and immersive live experience. We’ve worked hard to raise the bar and turn each show into a full journey – a mix of sound, emotion, and visuals that creates a space to disconnect from the grayness of daily life and simply live the music together. Some elements on the album – like the idiophone, additional percussion, or layers of synths – don’t appear on stage, and we’re comfortable with that difference. In the studio, we aim for atmosphere and detail; live, we aim for energy, presence, and the kind of connection no recording can reproduce. Performing during wartime has shaped this vision even more. The further east we travel, the more powerful the anticipation feels – in cities like Chernihiv, Dnipro, or Kharkiv, concerts become something deeply needed, a reminder of life and color where everything else feels muted. That’s why playing across the country matters so much to us. And a beautiful tradition has emerged around our song Promin: since Johannes can’t just take a bus from Stockholm to Kyiv, we invite fellow musicians, friends, or incredible local voices in each city to join us on stage. These moments make every performance unique and help turn Litera into a living, evolving experience.
What comes next for Vøvk after this release? Are there plans for touring, new collaborations, or stylistic explorations?
Right now our main focus is to share Litera with the world – we worked on this album with complete honesty and determination, putting all our strength and deepest ideas into it. Touring is definitely something we want to pursue, both in Ukraine and abroad, but as with everything today, circumstances can shift quickly. Life in Ukraine can hardly be called stable, yet we believe there will be victory, peace, and a future – and we want to be ready for that moment. As for collaborations, we don’t chase big names for the sake of attention. For us, each song has to stand on its own, and any collaboration must genuinely serve the artistic result, not overshadow it. We already have a lot of new material and ideas accumulating, and we don’t want to delay creating new music. One of the essential functions of music, especially now, is to heal invisible wounds – both ours and those of our listeners – and we want to keep contributing to that healing in whatever ways we can.
“Litera” is an intricate journey that traverses personal and collective experiences, expressed through intense musical landscapes and deeply layered vocal arrangements. Vøvk’s approach demonstrates a rare synergy between conceptual depth and sonic experimentation, offering listeners a space to reflect, confront, and ultimately feel the power of music as a shared emotional experience. From its delicate moments to its explosive crescendos, “Litera” embodies the resilience of creativity amidst upheaval, firmly establishing Vøvk as a formidable voice in modern Progressive Rock and Post-Hardcore.
Purchase “Litera” on Bandcamp: https://vovk.bandcamp.com/album/litera