‘Music is my therapy’: How DJing helps Ukraine’s war veterans recover | Electronic music
IIn Ukraine, the sound carries a different weight: the wail of warning sirens, the buzz of witness drones overhead, the concussive strikes of an air defense interception, and the subsequent explosion. But in addition to the sounds of war, which persisted three and a half years after the full-scale Russian invasion, music is still played, clubs stay open during the day (they close long before the midnight curfew), and electronic dance music remains an intrinsic part of the lives of many Ukrainians.
Popular clubs in Kiev, such as K41, became bomb shelters before turning into frontline fundraisers. The parties are doubled as well Cleaning operations They are detained at strike sites. New places like Abu Records — the first of many creative spaces to set up shop in an abandoned winery — have emerged as gathering points where you can share a cigarette with a sniper or combat medic as easily as with a DJ. But the rehabilitative power of dance music is most evident at the Superhuman Center, near Lviv in western Ukraine. Here the most seriously wounded war-wounded are treated with prosthetics and reconstructive surgery, and psychological support is provided to children and adults affected by the war. Within the scope of treatment is music therapy.
Howard Buffett, Warren Buffett’s son and one of the center’s main funders, suggested forming the Superhumans, so the center teamed up with the music charity Victory Beats, which was created a year after the war to provide veterans with relaxation and a nonverbal outlet for emotional expression.
“We were working with a 25-year-old soldier who had severe brain damage and limited use of his hand,” recalls the charity’s founder, Volodymyr Negodada. “We started with A [sound-based] A relaxation session designed to calm the nervous system, but stopped almost immediately because the low frequency causes pain. When he started to feel better, he asked for a DJ console.
After witnessing the effectiveness of electronic music as live therapy, Nigodada and Vlad Faison—a DJ and former editor-in-chief of Playboy Ukraine—co-created EnterDJ, which teaches veterans the basics of mixing. All users need is a laptop, headphones and an internet connection; Some listen from home, while others come to a designated space at the Superhumans Center. “After the soldier was completely immersed in the process, playing track after track without paying attention to low or high frequencies, he began to use his injured hand,” Nigodada says. The patient stayed with EnterDJ for the duration of his stay at Superhumans, and Negodada saw him perform a DJ set a year later: “He still has health issues but remains passionate about DJing.”
Speaking with the same stoicism that underpins most of my conversations with Ukrainians, one veteran, Oleksandr, tells me about the incident that led him to Superhumans and EnterDJ. “I was serving in Poltava when a missile destroyed my leg,” he says. “I remember everything about it. The explosion, and I called my commander to tell me I was alive, and I realized I was going to have to drive an automatic car, and I was worried about the blood in my car after the evacuation.” He laughs at the absurdity and continues. “In the hospital, I lost almost all my blood and had to be resuscitated. I woke up knowing my legs were gone, but fortunately the rest of my body and mind were fine. That’s what’s most important.”
For Oleksandr, EnterDJ has become a daily routine, “to have some good moments if the day was tough, or to celebrate if you gained something in rehab.” Within six months, he was performing alongside the Lviv Philharmonic Orchestra, using a MIDI controller to layer sounds onto a piece of music written by British composer Nigel Osborne.
Oleksandr began using singing bowls in a voice therapy session. “Then I saw a DJ console and it reminded me of my school days when I was trying to mix music on a laptop.” Before I was fitted with a prosthetic leg, EnterDJ helped “take my attention away from the trauma and rehabilitation,” he says, keeping his gentle gaze steady. “I now listen more deeply, dividing the music into parts for mixing, and even composing. We composed ambient music for therapeutic purposes; we added electronic effects to live classical instruments. The audience relaxed deeply; some even fell asleep. And so we achieved our goal!” Most recently, Oleksandr played with Prince Harry on a visit to Kiev.
EnterDJ students are encouraged to find their own DJ style. They’re able to pull tracks from a catalog of music donated by record labels around the world, including Lyon’s Hard Fist, Sao Paulo’s Tropicana, and Lisbon’s Disco Extendes, as well as Ukrainian labels like Mystictrax, 2064, Regulardisco, and Trance Pandemic.
Roman Cherkas, who served in the 3rd Tank Brigade in eastern Ukraine, was drawn to drums. He joined EnterDJ after months of surgeries, prosthetics and rehabilitation at the centre, after losing his lower limbs in a mortar attack. He speaks to me via phone call from his home, ready with a mix of drums and bass. “Right now, I still don’t feel able to move, and I can’t move normally,” he says. “Music has become energy for me, the energy of life.” “If I spend two days without listening or playing, then phantom pains, bad thoughts, and even depression begin. For me, music is a natural task, my therapy.”
Six months after the programme, Roman performed in Lviv at a show presented by one of the world’s leading drum and bass labels, Hospital Records. He talks slowly and thoughtfully about how music changes his headspace. He becomes completely absorbed in it, sometimes sitting in his chair mingling for six hours. “I’ve tried working with psychologists but it didn’t work for me. You have to consciously engage your mind and imagine raising your legs, which is very difficult. As for music, it’s the opposite, it automatically changes my thinking and makes me feel better.”
Olga Rudneva, CEO of the Superhumans program, is proud of veterans who pass as superhumans performing on big stages, but emphasizes what she finds most important about the program: “Positive healing effects for patients; reduced phantom pain; positive mood and more socialization.”
However, EnterDJ is used not only by injured veterans, but also by children and adults across Ukraine, and its creators highlight its broader power. CEO Yevhen Skrypnyk brought techno music to his hometown of Slovyansk in eastern Donbas with Shum Rave (“Shum” means noise in Ukrainian), a party that aims to rebuild the city and its culture after liberation from Russian occupation in 2014. “We all grew up very early,” he says. “We know what it means for a friend to die in war, or what it means to wait for your friend in captivity. I have worked in the events industry for more than 10 years, but it was not just about the party; it was about how to connect people and destroy stereotypes. In Ukraine, we are fighting for our lives, for our culture.”
Andreas Borsch, who co-hosts EnterDJ events at his venues around Kyiv, agrees, saying that music and culture are the best ways Ukraine has to fight Russian propaganda. “It’s an international language, and it can be understood everywhere, by everyone. You can try to impress people with everything that’s happening here, but it’s hard to touch them in a big way because they’re so far away and it can be hard to understand. But with music, you can convey greatness.”