Rock Monsters Romania

If there’s one emotion I want to evoke in the reader this time, it’s probably FOMO. In a world where musicians need to get viral to get big, few things about their performance make sense anymore. And the algorithm is one thing above all, and that is emotional. Maybe the scriptures have failed us, but one’s gotta play the game, so let me sell you this feverish emotion as it is: you should be jealous if you haven’t been in Expirat Club on June 4^th. 

I arrived at Dora Gaitanovici’s concert a few minutes after it started. Tired, sweaty and with my hair and makeup all over the place, I fought the rain and made it in Expirat in one piece. Right at the door, I was faced with a solid wall of people in the crowd, where I had to defy the laws of physics to get to Radu, my Rock Monsters colleague.

In case you haven’t heard of it, Dora Gaitanovici is a progressive metal project, born in Buzău a few years ago. It  probably started as a solo artist concept, but the name has become synonymous with the unit of the band. It’s not Florence and The Machine, or Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. It’s simply “Dora Gaitanovici,” and you know that means everybody: Dora Gaitanovici, Dante, Codruț Bulfan, Dani Bușoi. The band has currently two albums out, with the latest, “Arcanum Bazar,” freshly launched this spring. 

The Romanian rock scene is familiar with the name. And when you get to witness the growth of an artist of this level, you can sense an almost parasocial pride in their success. When the second album came out, it was surprising, but not shocking, to hear the changes in the songwriting and production style.  When the band’s second album came out, it was surprising—but not shocking—to hear the shift in both songwriting and production. At first glance, its polished, modern sound felt almost textbook in its resemblance to bands like Sleep Token. Anyone who’s caught a live show when Dora was in between album cycles could have predicted this. The low tuned guitars, the graphic eyeliner, the breakdowns you would hear in some live sets, they all came in waves, so the change from her “Descântec” era was upon us. At first I wasn’t quite convinced with this. Something in me missed the folklore-driven prog and the playful poetry that went so well with the violin. And I was sure, like every other elitist metalhead out there, that going a little towards pop and indie would be horrendously unoriginal. And it did feel a little polished and synthetic in comparison, but it’s grown on me in time. It’s refreshing to be proven wrong every once in a while.  

Dora and the band have long been changing the sound of their live renditions of the previous album. Slightly, naturally, they were spoon-feeding us with bits and pieces in the compositions, without switching off the essence of the past. That worked beautifully with the context of jumping from a subgenre to another, minding the gap and building a bridge over it to hold everything together. The band’s evolution both as a group and individually is obvious. Codruț’s drums are more complicated and assertive than ever, and Dante’s solos are insanely dynamic. Dani’s guitar riffs are beautiful and steady, and in the meantime he’s unlocked a vocal milestone, from background vocals to being fully featured and having his own verses. 

This concert was a splash of relatability, fun and marketing skills. The band had asked their fans on social media for their input on what they think would be a fun moment to have on stage. And they delivered. From Dante lip syncing to Deliric to switching instruments and making the craziest covers, this out-of-the-box set was completely opposite to what we would have expected to see. By the way, I’m still waiting on the studio version of “Whenever, wherever.” I needed it on Spotify yesterday, but I am already losing the hope that they will release it.

One of the suggestions was to play a song with a fan, and the very talented Carla Stefani was chosen for “Mătrăgună”. The entire crowd fangirled over this moment, and it was both wholesome and completely professional. 

Out of all the funny bits, it was probably the “Careless Whisper” moment that cracked me, leaving me with the impression that she had finally broken character for a second. Having seen her live a bunch of times by now, I’d always perceived Dora as a mythical being, living her off-stage life in some sort of ivory tower. She is always so solemnly perfect on stage, like a true prog vocalist. She does talk and express a variety of emotions, but essentially she is ethereal and focused on the music, something that Gen Z might call “locked in.”  But the moment she picked up that sax, I was hit with a wave of shock mixed with laughter, the kind that only brainrot memes would understand. 

There was also a featured moment, where they played an unreleased song made in collaboration with Radu Săndulescu from Missed Call, an emerging local pop rock band. This moment was followed by a nostalgia-fueled cover of “This Is Me,” from the Camp Rock movie. Although I’m sure Missed Call might be a band with potential, this new song with Dora and Radu together felt a bit generic and I could sense that vibe in the crowd as well. I don’t wish to condemn an unreleased song until proven innocent, especially because Radu seemed to get carried away with the nerves of singing this live for the very first time. And I have high hopes for the band’s future. 

The funny bits of the show made me wonder if these are the kinds of things artists have to do now to keep the crowd happy. To survive artistically. Sure, everything was either fun, sweet, random or great for an Instagram story, and the band undoubtedly had lots of fun. The process of doing some challenges involved a bunch of creativity. (And I am once again asking for that Shakira cover to be recorded and launched as soon as possible.) However, I can’t help but wonder if this is the future of artistry. If this is the equivalent to watching a brainrot video so you can focus on your task. As much as it helps to engage with your fans by doing a few silly games, it feels as if you’re playing the jester. And this is not an argument solely about this concert. We currently live in a digital minefield that blows your dopamine receptors with every other step you take. Because otherwise we wouldn’t pay attention. Everything is too much in the world, socially and politically. It’s too hot in June and too expensive to live in. So art needs to beat the always moving threshold to stand out once again. 

I don’t know if it was this whole spiral in my head or the mid-week exhaustion mixed with the head from being in a packed crowd, but my ride back home felt empty. Chemically drained. That was only for a minute though, until I took my phone out. Maybe this is the same thing people describe when they say they feel sad after a very good concert, or maybe it was only Thursday and I needed the weekend to start right at that exact moment.. 

“Crowd Diaries” is a series of heartfelt articles with the purpose of reviewing live music from a personal experience.

Text by Raluca Baciu