Men Seni Suyemin’s P.L.U.R. pop explosion

Discover Blogly is The FADER’s curated roundup of our favorite new music discoveries.

In the Kazakh language, “Men Seni Suyemin” means “I love you,” a stage name that, in the wrong hands, could be easily considered corny or naive. But in Minona Volandova’s case, her openhearted electro-pop is so genuine in its optimism, deep desire for connection, and P.L.U.R.-style compassion, it’s hard not to smile at least once while listening to her debut LP, BELIEVE.

A classically trained guitarist armed with an ultra-versatile modular synth, Volandova was raised in the shadow of the Soviet Union’s dissolution. Growing up so disconnected from the rest of the world, she gravitated toward music once Kazakhstan was finally free of the USSR’s colonialist censorship and able to interact with artists and cultures from around the world. Volandova was enraptured by the brightness of Britpop, the fluorescent twitch of ‘80s new wave, and the bombastic oomph of Eurodance, resulting in her love of a catchy hook, strong beat, and upbeat delivery of lyrics written in Kazakh, English, and regional Russian dialects. Look no further than the polyrhythmic exuberance of “Akshulan’s Intro,” or the absolute endorphin rush hidden within the buoyant post-punk drum machine of BELIEVE’s title track, the subtle sonic traces of her childhood that come through in productions like “Waiting For the New Year,” where she flirts with French house retrofuturism.

BELIEVE is an album about connecting and understanding each other, and how we can find love, unity, and connection through cultural exchange. Unsurprisingly, it also has its political moments, informed by Volandova’s own past experience with Soviet cultural suppression and Russia’s ongoing invasion of Ukraine, which forced her to leave her burgeoning career in St. Petersburg, like many other artists and intellectuals under the threat of being blacklisted or arrested. Over the past few months, thousands of creatives, entertainers, and writers have fled the country, including director Kirill Serebrennikov, who used the premiere of his new film at Cannes to protest the trials of a Russian playwright and a theater director.

Back in the safety of Kazakhstan though, Volandova has been able to reclaim her roots on songs like “Dark Waves,” a shadowy track that makes use of Kazakhstan’s strong creative heritage and regional folklore. In defiance of the USSR’s concentration of cultural uniformity, Volandova sings in Surzhyk — a Russian-Ukrainian hybrid dialect — alongside an updated melody inspired by an ancient song from the nearby Bryansk region. She even goes so far as to reference Ukraine’s Defenders Day on the reverent “14 October,” honoring those fighting to keep the Iron Curtain from being closed once again.

In this way, the optimistic resilience of BELIEVE and its affirmations, encouragement, and unfettered joy ends up being a powerful political statement in and of itself. Her music is a buoyant reminder that while it’s hard not to feel angry, afraid, and alone, we shouldn’t lose hope. And, nowadays, it’s special when you stumble upon something as strong and pure as BELIEVE, with its refreshingly catchy earworms about the community, connection, and kindness that feel like a brief reprieve from a world that’s spinning off its axis.