Šuma - Bahna (EP, 2025)
By Flork
It’s been about a year or two since I came across Šuma (Shuma) quite by chance—one of those serendipitous Spotify moments when an album ends and the algorithm takes over. As something familiar faded, a new sound began: atmospheric, ambient, yet wonderfully evocative. The track was Kupalka from their album Me, Mother and I was immediately enchanted. The vocals had an ancient feel with such clear mixing, even pristine. The effect was nothing short of transportive. And since hearing this gem of a track, I’ve been a fan of the duo from Belarus, with its mysterious echoes and repetitions, immersed in ancient folklore and legend (Kupalka (Купалка) comes from Kupala Night (Купалле), a traditional Slavic celebration held around the summer solstice, associated with fire, water, fertility, and ritual purification. The song embodies those elements with both reverence and creativity, and I knew that I’d found something rare).
And so, with their latest EP, BAHNA, the Minsk-based duo continue their journey of reimagining Belarusian folklore through electronic textures. Like Me, Mother, it’s an experience that feels otherworldly—kind of like a forgotten ceremony that’s been rediscovered on the dance floor. Released this year at the end of June, the result is a four-track Ep that is deeply atmospheric and ambient, steeped in ritual and memory, yet thoroughly modern in a way that only Šuma can pull off.
Opening with Zamova (Замова – Spell), a track that introduces us gently, listeners are swept into the abyss with washes of sound that feel like mist rising from a forest at dawn. Rusia’s vocals float like a mantra above subtle beats and deep, meditative synths. It's a track less about melody than mood, and is reminiscent of a trance-state ritual, setting the tone for the following tracks. …Niuka (…Нюка, possibly from нюкаць, meaning to sniff or sense – hinting at a mysterious presence) delves deeper into the shadows. This is where the ambient space grows darker and perhaps more layered, with haunting loops and sped-up percussion, creating a soundscape of fear and desperation. I love this track with Rusia’s near-chanting vocals, like nagging voices in your head. It’s eerie but without being harsh, and somehow evokes the sensation of walking through fog—uncertain, expectant, unaware of what lies ahead.
The third track is Maslenica (Масленіца, the Slavic festival marking winter’s end and the beginning of spring) shifts gears to a faster tempo, almost like a tribal ceremony. The image I conjure in my mind is a fire dance. Yet even here, the joy is restrained, delivered through quick yet gentle pulses and rising rhythms. There‘s defiitely a sense of movement, of life waking up, and remains rooted in Šuma’s signature sound, which is richly textured, immersive, and reverent to tradition.
The final piece, Koleda (Каляда – a winter solstice song or carol, a word we also use in Slovak), acts as a quiet farewell. With choral echoes and subtle melodic shifts, it’s ceremonial in its pacing—less a song than a fast procession. Like the previous tracks, it is Šuma at its best.
Musically, Šuma have evolved to a high level of maturity in both their compositions and skillfull layering. This EP is perhaps their most distilled work yet—minimal, but meaningful; thought-provoking, but commanding. It’s also worth mentioning that as a title, BAHNA fits perfectly with Šuma’s aesthetic—it's atmospheric and rooted in the natural world, as well as rich with metaphor. The word refers to wetlands in the Belarusian language—mysterious, often fog-covered landscapes associated with myth, danger, and transformation in Slavic folklore. In a symbolic sense, it can also evoke emotional or spiritual depth: a murky, hidden terrain where things lie buried or waiting to emerge. And so, like a marsh, the Ep is layered, immersive, and highly enigmatic.
And the Florkman’s prognosis? In a time when so much electronic music prioritizes volume and velocity, Šuma offer something else, like space, patience, and resonance. BAHNA doesn’t clamor for attention, but rather summons it, softly and with intention. For anyone lucky enough to stumble upon Šuma, as I once did, the reward is lasting. I’m glad that I stayed for the spell.