What does freedom sound like? For Ukrainians, it is a lament sung across the Carpathian mountains, the ringing of a bandura, the laughter of playful folk songs, and the pulse of experimental collectives on modern stages.
Freedom as Struggle
We begin with Plive kacha po Tysyni, performed here by Mariia Yaremak and IzaBella. This haunting folk lament, long associated with farewells and funerals, has become a modern hymn of collective mourning. Its imagery of a duck drifting down the Tysa River captures both grief and inevitability.
From the Carpathians, we move to central Ukraine with Shchedryk, performed by the Crimean Chamber Choir. Known internationally as Carol of the Bells, the piece was originally a pre-Christian spring chant welcoming prosperity. Its hypnotic repetitions carry an ancient hope — and in this version, a bittersweet reminder of the richness of a culture still under threat.
Jamala’s 1944 brings this section into the present. Written about the Stalinist deportation of her Crimean Tatar family, it is both personal and universal. Performed at Eurovision, the song became a global symbol of resilience in the face of oppression.
Freedom as Heritage
Folk melodies and traditional instruments are the heartbeat of Ukraine. They remind us that freedom is not just survival in the present, but continuity with the past. Charivna Skrypka performed by Inna Ishchenko, Mariia Petrovska, and Liubov Shipiliyk showcases the lyrical soul of Ukrainian string playing — a sound both melancholic and full of brightness.
The bandura takes centre stage in several instrumental works: Roman Hrynkiv’s Winterlude pieces (Nos. 2, 3, and 4) show how this national instrument can step into global dialogues, bridging folk resonance with jazz and contemporary composition. Similarly, Georgiy Matviyiv’s Wild West Jazz shows the bandura’s adaptability. Here, a traditional instrument enters playful conversation with Western idioms, demonstrating that heritage does not mean rigidity, but possibility.
Freedom as Love
Love of land, of people, of intimacy and tenderness flows through the next set. Oy, ty zhayvoronku brings together Illaria, Tanya Sha, Hennadii Sydorov, and Roman Solyk in a soaring folk arrangement. The lark — a bird of freedom and flight — becomes a messenger of longing.
Khrystyna Soloviy’s Pid oblachkom offers a more intimate tone, full of simplicity and vulnerability, while Troye Zillia’s Peremanochka and Pid Dubynoju reconnect listeners with playful, rooted Carpathian sounds.
Vivienne Mort’s Hrushechka and Odyn v Kanoe’s Choven shift the mood toward modern indie introspection. Their stripped-down arrangements bring freedom into personal spaces: fragile, private, but no less profound.
Authentix’s Море closes this section. With its waves of harmony and layered voices, the piece feels both timeless and contemporary. The sea becomes a metaphor for freedom — vast, unpredictable, sometimes stormy, yet always a space of possibility and renewal.
Freedom as Renewal
Freedom is not only about survival — it is about creating something new. DakhaBrakha’s Sho z-pod duba turns traditional chant into avant-garde theatre, a storm of rhythm and voice. Onuka’s ZENIT fuses electronics with folk timbres, reaching toward a future built on ancient ground. Go_A’s SHUM, based on a spring ritual song, translates village ceremony into a global electronic anthem.
The Dakh Daughters’ Rozy (Donbass) merges poetry, protest, and cabaret, resisting categorisation. Alina Pash’s Bosorkanya (“Witch”) draws on Carpathian folklore with a modern edge, reclaiming the female archetype as one of strength and wildness.
Closing Reflections
The playlist closes on notes of both intimacy and affirmation. Yulia Yurina’s Oy, yak zhe bulo (live) is raw and immediate — a reminder that freedom lives in the human voice, unpolished but burning.
Finally, Mariia Yaremak’s Ukraine brings us full circle, a declaration of love and identity, sung with conviction.
A Universal Story
For British listeners, these songs are an invitation into another cultural universe — one where history is not only read but sung, where grief and joy coexist in harmony, and where freedom is carried forward not only by words, but by sound.
Ukrainian music tells us that freedom is not a single moment. It is a river, flowing through centuries. It is a song — sometimes a lament, sometimes a dance, sometimes a whisper — that never stops being sung.
Hey Jukebox!
Listen to a playlist of the songs discussed in this blog on Spotify.
Lead image: UP9 via Creative Commons S-A 3.0.