‘Euronews’ spoke to Dima, a Kiev producer also known as BADWOR7H, about his life in Ukraine during the Russian invasion, the concept of “relative safety” and the form of escape that music offers.
At age 10, Dima’s musical path took a turn: “I chanced upon an installation file for FL Studio, a digital audio workstation used for audio production. I started mindlessly tapping buttons,” recalls the Kiev musician. At the time, YouTube was in its infancy and tutorials on sound production were scarce.
“At that age, I loved sitting in front of the computer; it was a form of escape for me” he explains, adding that it helped alleviate his anxiety, a feeling that still resonates with him. Over time, his passion led him to an unconventional choice: Pursue a career in género underground del Hard Bass.
Things started to change during the pandemic. Dimaalso known as BADWOR7Hwent through an artistic crisis that lasted a year, and his disillusionment with the genre increased. “I was bored with the music and the challenges of the underground scene,” she says.
Looking for a new direction, Dima ended up partnering with a friend,Chocollaband together they produced an EP titledKYIVENERGO. “We started working on the EP before the full-scale invasion. The lyrics were initially written in Russian, because we still spoke it,” he explains.
After Russia began its full-scale invasionthey reviewed the EP and they changed the lyrics to ukrainian. Russian was Dima’s native language, but since the large-scale invasion, he had already does not want to speak the language of the “aggressor” and he switched to Ukrainian.
“I woke up to the fifth explosion”
When he thinks back to February 24, 2022, Dima remembers waking up to loud explosions. “My mother started sending me panicked messages. Her anxiety affects me. I inherited that trait from her,” she explains, adding that although her mother wanted to leave kyiv immediately, they ended up staying two more days. “The main problem for me was not only the immediate risk, but also the lack of reliable information,” she says.
“Until then, I had been receiving news from unreliable public channelsinundated with Russian bots and misleading information. But my mother read something about the arrival of Russian forces in kyiv, which made her even more nervous. So we decided to leave. The trip was a nightmare,” she explains. They went home to Rzhyshchiv, a city about 80 kilometers from the capital.. According to Dima, he didn’t feel safer and his mother ended up fleeing the country after three weeks.
Dima stayed, unable to leave the country anyway due to martial law –Men between 18 and 60 are currently prohibited from leaving the country.– and not having the financial resources to move to the western part of the country, which is generally considered safer. After several weeks, his friend Chocollab contacted him, and finally they finished the EP. However, they decided that it was not the right time to launch it.
When the parties began to revive in kyiv, they tried out the new material. The good reception led them to publishKYIVENERGO. “In August 2022, some friends of ours were organizing a street culture and electronic music festival calledDirty dogand we decided to present the album there,” he adds.
Following its release, the duo played at charity concerts organized by initiatives such as Repair Togetherfocused on the reconstruction of communities affected by Russia’s war against Ukraine. At these “cleanup raves,” DJs played for volunteers who cleaned and rebuilt houses destroyed during the occupation or Russian attacks.
The concept of ‘relative security’
“The war has influenced my emotions and my music. Even negative emotions motivate me to create,” explains Dima, saying that, in a sense, he believes the saying that humans adapt to everything It’s kind of true in your case. “But what do we include in the term ‘adapted’?” he asks, thinking about what it means to live life ‘normally’.
“If you include going to work, sitting in a cafe, things like that, then I started to ‘adjust’ when Chocollab and I decided to return to kyiv in June 2022,” he explains. “I call it the ‘relative security’ concept. I thought that If I’m in the middle of nowhere I’m less likely to be targeted by missiles.. But then I realized that it makes me feel bad. I have realized that I prefer to live fully for less time than the opposite: to live in fear and for a long time,” she explains.
He adds that after the Ukrainian Armed Forces liberated occupied villages in the kyiv region, there were few explosions in the city center. “In October 2022, there were fragments of a missile that fell on a playground in Shevchenko Park in kyiv. It was a few meters from the university where I graduated,” he says and shows a photo of himself as a child on the playground , which was hit by fragments of a Russian missile. “It was like a reality check,” he says.
“I like harder music genres. I’m used to screeching, distorted sounds and heavy bass. I can sleep with Frenchcore (a subgenre of hardcore),” he explains, stating that his musical taste is the reason why he thinks the sound of explosions doesn’t trigger him as much. “It’s neither an advantage nor a disadvantage,” he says, “it’s a disadvantage if you want it to be effective in a critical situation, but It has helped me avoid sleepless nights…to a certain extent.”
Anti-aircraft sirens over kyiv
When it comes to electronic music, the 27-year-old has discovered that war creeps into places he didn’t expect. “You realize how common it is sound of sirens in electronic music” he says. That’s why Ukrainian DJs are very cautious when selecting music for their sets, as the sound of sirens can be triggering for some.
ADVERTISINGThe wailing of sirens is something many Ukrainians have become accustomed to. Depending on your location, the air raid siren can sound several times a day. With the increase in Russian attacks on Ukrainian cities such as kyiv and Kharkiv, the air raid siren has become a distressing constant in people’s lives.
Ukrainian singer Melancholydi has published a video on TikTok that shows this constant in the lives of many Ukrainians. Melancholydi harmonized with the blare of an air raid siren, turning something heartbreaking into something beautiful.
“Recently I was working on a song,” Dima recalls, “and the air raid siren sounded. I found it ‘fascinating’ how the sound was the same key as the melody I was working on. “I felt like a giggle of despair because, at that moment, there had to be a strange change in our brains (when it comes to the sounds of war).”
Charging your phone or working on new music?
Since the beginning of the large-scale invasion, Russia has increasingly attacked the energy infrastructure from Ukraine. As power plants have been attacked with Russian missiles, Ukraine has had to reintroduce rolling blackouts to save electricity. As a producer, Dima depends on electricity.
ADVERTISING“I bought a big two kilowatt power bank. However, I wouldn’t be able to power all my equipment,” he says, adding that he doesn’t feel comfortable working with them anyway, in case the outage schedule isn’t right. “When you don’t know if you’ll have power in the next 24 hours, you keep the time you have to charge your phone or have some light at night.
For him, that means he essentially can’t be productive during those days.
Creating music helps Dima with his anxiety and deal with everything that’s going on in his life, besides the large-scale invasion. “I had a mental breakdown at the beginning of June. “It was difficult to distinguish whether I wasn’t making music because of my mental state, or whether not making music made my condition worse,” he admits. In Ukraine, everyone takes life one day at a time, and no one knows what awaits them the next day.
“I love kyiv,” Dima says, reflecting on the deep connection that has kept him rooted to the city despite the challenges. “Another reason I don’t want to leave is because my grandmother is here, and “I have people who depend on me.”he continues, pausing to acknowledge the practical difficulties of moving. In addition to producing musicthis 27-year-old also offers music production courses.
ADVERTISINGDima is not the only one who sees his future in Ukraine. A recent survey of the FoundationIlko Kucheriv “Democratic Initiatives” with the sociological service of the Razumkov Center has revealed that around 86% of Ukrainians want to build their future in Ukraine. Besides, 59% have a clear intention to stay in the country.
Dima talks about the feeling of belonging he feels among those who share his cultural background and values. “When I network, when I communicate, or when someone stops me on the street, it reinforces why I am here. I have invested my life here. There were years when I was not known and I felt isolated, even trapped. I knew I needed network to advance my career, but I didn’t know how. Dima’s artistic goal is ambitious: “I want Ukrainian electronic music to be recognized for its top-notch production quality in all genres“, he states.
“If no one stands up to them on the front line, kyiv could be the next Bucha”
In April, Ukraine’s top prosecutor, Andriy Kostin, stated that atrocities committed by Russia in the temporarily occupied Ukrainian territories, as well as like the Bucha massacreshow a consistent pattern of genocidal behavior that justifies their prosecution both within Ukraine and, ultimately, by the International Criminal Court. According to the Ukrainian authorities, Russian forces have killed at least 1,400 peopleincluding 37 children, in Bucha.
In the first month of the full-scale invasion, several thousand men voluntarily enlisted in the Ukrainian Armed Forces. Since then, the number has decreased. In December 2023, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky announced that The Ukrainian Armed Forces needed to mobilize up to 500,000 soldiers. This figure has since been revised by Army Chief Oleksandr Syrskyi. An updated figure has not been published since then.
ADVERTISINGIn response, the Ukrainian government passed a bill this spring that lowers the recruitment age from 27 to 25 years. Since the law was passed, men are required to update their details online and show them to conscription officers or the police when asked.
“I’m afraid to join the Army” says Dima. “I see it as a path that leads to a pessimistic outcome: One in which I get killed. I’m ashamed to admit it. “
He continues: “But I have seen what Russia brings to Ukraine. We’ve all seen Bucha. And I realized: if no one confronts them on the front line, kyiv could be the next Bucha.” Faced with the dilemma of being massacred like the innocents of Bucha or going to the front, the answer is clear: go to the front. What more is there to say?”
