Diana Loginova, Berlin, Germany, June 20, 2026. The problem with assessing the music of the group "Stoptime" is that history triumphs over creativity. Covers are more important than their own songs. Detention, trial, release, and emigration appear to be a more interesting story than their debut album. The fact of its appearance is more important than the content. This is not the first such case – do you remember the songs of Pussy Riot? Let's recall that the group "Stoptime", led by Diana Loginova (Naoko), performed on the streets of Petersburg, including with songs by Monetochka, Noize MC, and "Pornofilmy". Loginova and Alexander Orlov were arrested three times for unsanctioned events and "discrediting the army." A massive support campaign began for them. In late November 2025, they were released from custody. Loginova and Orlov left for Vilnius, now they live here together, play with the children of the participants of "Bi-2" and, as it turned out, record their own songs. How many such groups are there in Petersburg who play others' songs on the streets, while simultaneously recording their own material and not hitting it big with it. "Stoptime" could have disappeared the same way, but the authorities' desire to sweep sedition from the streets and mass support brought "Stoptime" into the mainstream, even though no one had heard their own music. I'm already writing the third paragraph and still can't get to the songs themselves from "Stoptime's" debut album, because I don't understand how to evaluate them correctly. On the one hand, one can look at the album in the context of their civic activity. "Into Nowhere From Nowhere" is high-style poetry about the fate of a generation. Anti-war compositions. Mayakovsky. A song in Ukrainian. "Stoptime" cements the tradition of Russian civil protest music of recent years. From "Pornofilmy" – a strained, pathos-filled style. From Monetochka – naivety and kindness against all odds with keyboards. From Noize – holy simplicity of sound and verbosity. There hasn't been a generational shift in protest music on the Russian and even Russian émigré scene for a long time. Ivan Alekseev and Vladimir Kotlyarov had no prominent followers. Their music, on the verge of a slogan and a personal letter, their songs, which are angry enough that we don't notice their conciseness and primitivism, the sounds themselves – all this is very difficult to reproduce without looking foolish and ridiculous. In general, I also expected foolishness and ridiculousness from "Stoptime." It's not about age, but about the difficulty of reproducing a role model. And, in general, it turned out not foolish and not ridiculous. Naoko does not try to decorate compositions with lyrical vignettes, does not obscure reality with elegant images and mysterious quotes. She hits directly – and that's her strength. "Stoptime" had a large credit of trust, especially from civil society. Their existence was seen as a political act. And in general, the expectations were met: a new generation – a new Kotlyarov. Naoko and company are also good because they don't overdo the civic pathos and don't resort to poster-like shouting, like, for example, "Nogu Svelo!" and Dmitry Spirin, who found themselves in the role of protest musicians. "Stoptime" knows how to express themselves on all issues without causing awkwardness. And if we look at the album in the context of the overall situation on the Russian-language music scene? There are problems here. Russian-language music over the last 10 years has learned to package people's moods in various genres. Angry hip-hop and hysterical rock, foggy house, and verbose rap with stadium electronics. Groups like "Dayte Tank (!)" or "Kaspiyskiy Gruz" did not turn concerts into rallies or denounce evil from the stage, but they captured reality much better and more clearly. This is partly due to the songwriting merits of Dmitry Mozzhukhin, Brutto, and Ves. About Russia and the post-Soviet era, "We were born to produce offspring in reserve, As if children will figure it out better than us" by "Dayte Tank (!)" says more than any slogans. About how big guys do evil supposedly for the sake of children, the song "For the Sake of Children" by Slava KPSS speaks better. Russian-language music, in general, has learned to be both unique and elegantly played and recorded. The problem with "Stoptime" is that their album is a greeting from 2004-2005. It's rock-pop à la "Nashe Radio," impersonation of early Zemfira, the sound of "Bi-2" from their prime era. Now there seems to be a demand for nostalgia for the noughties, but for nostalgia that has been reworked, rethought, and reflected upon. "Stoptime" simply plays on old settings and doesn't try to update them. It seems straightforward, direct, angry anguish, but at the same time quite untimely. The cover of the album Stoptime "Into Nowhere From Nowhere." But "Into Nowhere From Nowhere" is still brighter and stronger than many protest songs of recent years. Émigré Russian-language protest music has big problems – it's often unlistenable. It's understandable that in such songs, lyrics will always prevail over sound, but not to this extent. In the songs, say, of "Nogu Svelo!" the angry, aggressive message so overwhelms all other components that it pushes everything out, leaving only the cry "Go, Orks." "Pornofilmy," being talented songwriters, still reproduce the sound and style of "Nashe Radio" from the late Kozyrev era: as if the group "Pilot" hadn't gone crazy, and the group "Mertvye Delfiny" had learned more chords. Late "Kasta" seemed to have lowered the bar for the elegance of their song plots and parted with the bright, juicy groove of their later works, as if also reverting to the settings of the noughties. And so on: exceptions here are Noize MC and Monetochka, who have tamed their own retro-mania and know how to find a balance between a loud statement and a catchy sound. Protest music in exile, with the mentioned exceptions, is when a speaker blares from the speakers. When the agenda of a hypothetical "Novaya Gazeta Europe" is transferred into songs without significant changes. When an artist looks better at a rally than at a concert. When an artist is, in fact, associated by everyone more with rallies than with concerts. "Stoptime," however, is saved by the fact that, as I already said, they don't exaggerate, don't overdo the pathos, and don't try to shake the listener by the collar. "Into Nowhere From Nowhere" is a teenage diary against the backdrop of very difficult times. Naoko doesn't aim to yell, condemn, and destroy: she is rather sincerely surprised at how we reached such a life, questions, gets disappointed, and is very afraid. It's untimely, simple, and sometimes too straightforward, but very alive music. The problem is that it's not very clear on what field this music will grow. The political protest field is in hibernation, and the main listeners of these songs live in St. Petersburg or Moscow, not Vilnius or Riga. I am very glad that "Stoptime" managed to survive. I am very afraid that they will not find their place and will disappear.