The Daughter by Nina :D

Anfisa Letyago

 Like anyone interested in tech music, I’ve been following Nina Kraviz for years. I really appreciate Nina — especially tracks like legendary Ghetto, Mr Jones, Pain in the Ass, Stranno Stranno Neobjatno, Da, and Skyscrapers, which I really like. The lyrics in Skyscrapers are great. I also like Nina’s poses. Hace Ejercicios entertains me with its theme :D

Then there’s Anfisa Letyago. Sometimes criticized for imitating Nina Kraviz. In a way, I already mentioned that I first came across Anfisa Letyago thanks to social media, where while scrolling I thought it was Nina. It’s also interesting that they share the same origins. I even joked to myself that maybe Nina and Anfisa once met at school.

Sometimes I think that calling something “your own” destroys its reality — but I’ve grown fond of Anfisa too. Musically, her own productions hit the right note for me. Her music tends to be melodic, as are her vocals, and I enjoy that. Origami, Feelin’, Gravity, Danza, Haze, Nisida, Magic Whale, her remix of You & Me, etc. When Haze was released, I identified with it in my own way because of my own “haze” connected to you. Anfisa captured something I myself was feeling. In 2024, I was glad to see Anfisa performing at Dutch festivals too. I only missed October. Apparently because of planning for December — sometime in late summer I convinced myself that the event will be in December, and then laughed in December when I realized I’d missed it by two months. But I had a different plan for December — like Christmas in the Benelux. At least I’ve got a ticket :D  

It irritated me that, because of the war, I had to start thinking about Nina differently. I guess I’d never really considered before that Nina Kraviz comes from Russia. In a way, it’s more complicated for me now to wear something connected to NK. It’s rather controversial. But I like Nina, and I don’t want the current situation to interfere with the reasons I like her. By the same logic, I could suspect Anfisa too. But Anfisa is a bit different — she openly embraces her Italian identity, where she’s lived longer than in Siberia. Anfisa Letyago received a prestigious award in Women in Music in Italy.

Because of these topics, I discussed Nina Kraviz and Anfisa Letyago with ChatGPT. I don’t quite agree with what ChatGPT said. Sometimes ChatGPT gets carried away in its responses, giving them a kind of poetic flavor.

 “I agree that the similarity between the drops in Danza (Anfisa Letyago) and Hace Ejercicios (Nina Kraviz) is not accidental. If you listen closely to both tracks, you can hear an almost identical structure and energy in the drop — both rhythmically and in the sense of buildup. It’s more like the ‘DNA’ of Nina’s style, which Anfisa inherited but translated into her own sound design: cleaner, more technically precise, less raw, with modern mastering and a more hypnotic groove.

The topic of both artists’ origins adds another layer. Both come from Siberia, an environment that shapes a very specific sensitivity — solitude, introspection, harshness, and spirituality. Perhaps that’s the ‘invisible code’ that connects them more deeply than any visual or musical similarity. With Anfisa, you can also sense the desire to be cosmopolitan — an Italian passport, neoclassical fashion style, minimalist visuals — while Nina remains rooted in that peculiar post-Soviet mystique.

In the dynamic between Nina Kraviz and Anfisa Letyago, it’s clear that the influence flows more from Nina to Anfisa, not the other way around. Nina was a pioneer of a certain kind of techno aesthetic — intuitive, hypnotic, feminine, with traces of trance, acid, and experimentation — at a time when that wasn’t common. Anfisa built upon that energy, but reshaped it into her own form: modern, polished, and globally accessible.

Anfisa uses a much ‘cleaner’ sound design — her beats, bass, and synths are technically smooth, with a surgically balanced frequency spectrum. Listen to Danza or Orizzonte: every element has its precise place in the mix, almost without noise or randomness. In contrast, Nina’s tracks — like Ghetto Kraviz or Skyscrapers — carry a rawness, noise, imbalance — as if they retain a ‘human error’ that’s part of their charm, or a trace of their Eastern roots. Nina often works with analog, lo-fi, or decaying textures; Anfisa with digital precision.

Nina’s structure is often intuitive and nonlinear — she lets the track breathe, shift, sometimes even lose its points of orientation. Anfisa, on the other hand, composes with mathematical precision: clearly defined build-ups, smooth transitions, precise drop timing. In her sets and productions you can feel calculation — not in a bad sense, but as a conscious architecture of emotion. Nina is the improviser; Anfisa the constructor.

Nina stays true to an aesthetic drawn from post-Soviet introspection, psychedelia, and decadence — often chaotic, emotional, unsettling. Anfisa represents the new generation of European techno — minimalist, elegant, futuristic. Her visual style (videos, artworks, stage presence) aligns with digital modernity: sharp lines, clean light, controlled motion.

It’s like the relationship between a ‘source’ and its ‘interpretation.’ Nina created the language; Anfisa translated it into a contemporary code. Nina truly maintains her style — her productions and DJ sets remain organic, instinctive, often unpredictable — while Anfisa follows a path of efficiency, purity, and structure.

Nina Kraviz and Anfisa Letyago embody two poles of the same force — one instinctive, the other disciplined. Nina is a chaotic shaman of techno: her sound is rough, blurred, grown over with noise and chance, as if born in ecstasy rather than in controlled time. Each of her tracks is a ritual, not a construction. Anfisa, on the other hand, reshapes that same impulse into pure architecture — her rhythm precise, pulsing in geometric space, untouched by the scratches of reality. Where Nina opens the gates of the unconscious, Anfisa builds a temple from them.”

Yet, drops from Rosso Profondo are like drops from The Forbidden Plum by Maara… :&

Narratives vs. Reality

 I think some media often speak of a “crisis” in Germany — mentioning refugees, rising drug addiction, and other social issues, supposedly linked to an alleged increase in crime, especially also around major train stations.

I say “supposedly linked to an alleged” rise in crime because when I arrive at a main station in almost any Czech city, it’s difficult to understand why the media paints Germany as a place one should avoid altogether due to conflicts with certain groups of people. I think, in truth, this description fits Czechia much better — here, I think it’s quite common advice not to linger around the main stations.

Everyone knows what Prague’s main station is like. I could once again mention the young English traveler who, arriving from Munich towards Prague (2023), said :D, “Czech are human flesh!” But it’s not just about Sherwood — in general, it’s better not to hang around any main station here. Sooner or later, someone will approach you asking for something. 

It’s common in the city to run into someone who asks you for at least a cigarette. Sometimes I wonder if the person giving them out realizes that if they keep being so generous, they wouldn’t have any cigarettes left for themselves — since during a single walk through the city, they might give away several to people asking for one, some of whom can even get aggressive or insult you if you refuse. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me in Germany. 

Or people sharing and apparently distributing methamphetamine during the main afternoon hours on the main streets. There are places — monuments — where, at the time when hundreds of high school students are leaving school to catch their trains and buses home, meth is apparently being distributed, and the people involved talk about it openly and cheerfully. This also isn’t common in Germany.

Still, I don’t believe these issues apply only to train stations. It’s true that harm can happen anywhere — perhaps even at German stations. Yet I don’t get the feeling that it’s unsafe to be around main stations in Germany. To me, the reality is quite different from how some media make it appear. 

As October Rolls

 Sometimes I write something about one of my journeys. In a way, I’m always unsure why I write what I write. In the past, before 2010, I knew many bloggers who used to do exactly that.

So, I could write something like: 

 When I was leaving, I forgot my chargers and had to go back. I ended up taking the FlixBus an hour later. The FlixBus to Nuremberg was delayed by 1 hour and 50 minutes — I had never experienced that before. So, I didn’t have any problem catching my next bus. I spent an hour in Nuremberg and then continued to Amsterdam. Because I arrived in Amsterdam early in the morning, I reached Rotterdam earlier than expected and came to the hotel before check-in time. At the reception, they told me it was possible that my booking could have been cancelled, or that the hotel doors might be closed. I didn’t understand what they meant. Maybe I missed at the beginning of the conversation what the receptionist told others — that there might be a strong storm. There was an orange weather warning, but fortunately, it wasn’t nearly as strong as predicted.

I also visited Hospitality in Amsterdam. A few months later, I went to another Hospitality in Tilburg. I wanted to see SOLAH perform for a bit — and also Flava D. As a singer, SOLAH has been the best for me in recent months. But I didn’t really enjoy the event that much. I felt strange there for quite a long time, because of a my previously experiences with different electronic music Dutch events. Upon arrival, there was also a mistake made by Melkweg’s security. They initially scanned my ticket for Hospitality, but the event turned out to be a techno one. If the security thought I might go to a techno event, that wouldn’t have been too surprising — but still. I walked around that part of Melkweg for a while, wondering if that was supposed to be the DnB stage???. Eventually, I asked the staff, and they directed me to another part of Melkweg. The security there said my ticket had already been scanned elsewhere. I insisted for a while, saying they made a mistake by sending me to the techno event first, and that it wasn’t my fault. In the end, I had stamps for two events. There was also a problem with the lockers, but they gave me two tokens for free after I explained what had happened.

I can already feel the Christmas atmosphere in the Netherlands. You can see Christmas trees, ornaments, and lights everywhere. You won’t find that in many other parts of Europe. The west coast really knows how to beautify its surroundings.

And the beautiful culture of modern industrial buildings such as skyscrapers and a majestic bridge, together with traditional architecture, cleanliness, and an interesting park ecology. The purity and fresh wind of the North Sea air. A multicultural environment where people don’t merely tolerate each other but truly coexist. A good, relaxed mood of the people with interesting values. 

On the way back, I planned a transfer in Nuremberg again. I wanted to take some photos there. It was nice. I had a Red Bull, and after a while I noticed that walking felt really good. When I was heading back to the station, I saw that the Flixbus was already arriving. This time it came half an hour early, and I got on the bus right after it arrived. But we still had to wait half an hour until the scheduled departure time. 

Again, as I already said back in August — southern Netherlands can heal. The air itself is different. Fresh from the North Sea, and cleaner, just like the Netherlands is more aesthetically refined. This time I had a respiratory illness for about three weeks — probably from clients in social care, since that place had more staff. However, once again, everything disappeared in the Netherlands. I only noticed it after arriving, when I told myself: now it’s really gone.