If you thought punk died in the 1990s, you simply have not heard this album. Put on a Mask, originally titled Nadente Masku, is more than a collection of tracks. It is a philosophical manifesto for a generation tired of playing the “good neighbour” and the “successful success story”, yet afraid to remove its make-up.
The album title is more than advice: it is a diagnosis. We live in an age of total pantomime, and this new Velesova Nav release becomes the soundtrack that makes you want to smash a mirror and find your real self in its fragments.
From the Soviet “common ranks” to personal “demons at the feast”, the album travels from social satire to deep introspection. This is rock for those tired of being afraid, and pop-punk for those who want to think.
The album opens with an infectious guitar riff that makes you want to shout. But listen closely to the lyrics: this is sarcasm, not nostalgia. The refrain about “common ranks” and “oxygen” mocks the illusion of equality. The line “Hey, punk brother, do not take risks / Put rock’s meanings into rhyme” is an ironic testament: to survive, hide the truth behind a rhyme. An explosive opening that sets the tone for the whole masquerade.
The album’s most audacious track. There is no fantasy here: the “hobbits” are the grumbling people who are never satisfied. The central message is “It is only your own reflection.” The song demolishes the childish grievance that “the whole world owes me”. Its explosive chorus about “the independence of mirrors” reminds us that, if you see jerks everywhere, perhaps you have simply forgotten to smile.
An epic ballad in which the guitars quieten just enough for you to hear your own heartbeat. The track challenges the idea that freedom means alcohol and excess. Here, freedom means control, awareness and the ability to say “no” to the puppeteer. The sweeping chorus, urging us to “remember yourself before it is too late”, feels like a therapy session set to a heavy riff.
A feast of pantomime and clowning. Here, Velesova Nav reaches the heart of modern relationships: we put masks on ourselves and our children, and joke “without joking”, just to avoid speaking openly. A rhythmic beat and the recurring question “How can we speak openly without being ashamed of ourselves?” make this an anthem for anyone ready, at last, to tear away the veil.
A light, ironic breather. At first glance, it is a pop-rock love story. By the second line, though, the protagonist seems less in love with the woman than with the act of “conquest” and his own role as Romeo. The final chord brings a recognition of responsibility — “Am I really in love here?” — and returns us to the album’s central theme: even our feelings can be masks we try on.
The heaviest and most philosophical track. The narrator digs inside himself, finding equal amounts of “goodness” and “shit”. It is an attempt to shake the moths out of a coat and discover the skeleton in the cupboard. “Feasting with demons, celebrating with angels” captures the inner conflict of a modern person.
A manifesto of audacity. Moving from minor to major, the track declares: “Even if I do not know how, I will stick my nose in everywhere!” It is an energising call to action, ideal for a run or before an important phone call.
The album ends in an apotheosis of hope: the mask is off, the “citadel” has been left behind, and you can see your star. This epic finale reminds us that we are not alone, and that the heart will always find its way.
Lyrics: Polina Zhadko.
Music: Igor Maltsev.
Cover photograph: Igor Maltsev.