Every once in a while, I get a desire for new music that can almost be called bloodlust. A few weeks ago, that spell came over me, and I took to the hunt. I scoured Spotify, Bandcamp, review sites, Amazon recommendations, and more trying to find something that would slake my thirst.

There, in the “Fans also listen to” section of Holy Fawn’s Spotify page, I found Life on Venus, a Moscovian shoegaze/dream pop quintet. After finding both their Bandcamp and Discogs out of stock, I spent a few hours searching the internet trying to secure a copy. I finally found one on Amazon.de, gladly paid the extra for shipping, and waited impatiently.

And now that my prey is secured, it’s time to play it far too many times.

Over the last few years, I’ve learned that there is a respectable shoegaze scene in Russia (most of whom have vocally opposed the invasion of Ukraine, thankfully). I had fallen in love with Pinkshinyultrablast years ago, and at the end of last year became smitten with Blankenberge. Life of Venus is another great entry to the canon, and they more than hold their own against the other Russian heavy hitters.

Odes to the Void is a dark album, to be sure, but unlike so many other dark shoegaze bands, Life on Venus doesn’t rely on extreme volume changes or walls of fuzz pedals to create their somber moods. In fact, most of the guitar work is clean, though run through scads of reverb and modulation. Instead, they weave their emotional journeys through their melodic sensibilities, using modal shifts in place of distortion, creating lush aural landscapes that don’t necessarily need to explode to hit hard.

It’s a bold move to pull back from the trick that gets the most mileage in your genre, but Life on Venus’s songwriting is strong enough to pull it off. Opener “Glass Gardens” manages to amass the same heft as many of their contemporaries without ever stepping foot on a dirt pedal. “For the Kill” and “Startide” take that same melancholy energy and puts it to an urgent groove, with stunning results.

Which isn’t to say there is a complete lack of fuzz pedals. They bring the noise, but the rarity of these blistering moments makes them all the more cathartic. “What Lies Beneath” pumps up its chorus with a crash of distortion (on the rhythm guitar only—lead is still clean) and ends with a blistering climax. It’s the first bit of fuzz on the album, and it’s the eighth track. Closer “At the Point of No Return” makes it look practically tame in comparison, crossing fully into territory previously claimed by This Will Destroy You.

There are some glimmers of lightness in here too though. “A Story Ends” is placid and major keyed, and barring some minor turns in the prechorus. “The Night is Young” is practically twee, and if the echo-drenched guitars were replaced with a row of backup singers, it would feel right out of the 1950s. This is the only track that feels a bit incongruous with the rest of the album, but it’s a delightful enough detour to forgive, and the somber “Darker than Blue” manages to merge back into the darkness.

I suppose in the end, beyond its own great merit, this record is emblematic of what I love about the music world. No matter how far I search or how deeply I dig, there are still countless precious gems still waiting to be unearthed.