Rating: 8 / 10 Stars
WĘDROWCY~TUŁACZE~ZBIEGI is:
Sars (Furia, Duszę Wypuścił, Massemord etc.) – music // lyrics // graphics
Stawrogin (Gruzja, Odraza, Totenmesse etc.) – music // songster // lyrics
Konstanty Mierzejewski (Mag)- songster // lyrics
Leks (Thaw, ARRM, Zgliszcza) – drums
Mold (Totenmesse, Charnel Aura, Loathfinder) – “a potem spierdalaj”
Szturpak (Licho, Koniec Pola) turned the lights off
REVIEW – WĘDROWCY~TUŁACZE~ZBIEGI were never really meant to stay. They arrived sounding like ghost transmissions from a place between folklore and fallout, and now, with Droga do domu, they disappear with the same strange elegance. This five-track release isn’t just their last—it feels like their voice dissolving into the fog, right as you lean in to hear it.
Released via Devoted Art Propaganda, Droga do domu (The Way Back Home) is not a homecoming. It’s a vanishing point. A signal fading into static. The journey ends here—or maybe it never happened at all.
If you don’t speak Polish, that’s okay. I don’t either. But there’s something about this music that bypasses the need for translation. The emotion is raw, ancient, and undeniable. You don’t need a lyric sheet to feel what’s being sung, whispered, or murmured into the ether. You just need to sit still long enough to let it crawl under your skin.
The EP opens with “Nadęty balon,” a slow-burn drift through shadow and memory. It doesn’t announce itself—it just appears, full of weight and air. “Agapa II” feels like a half-remembered hymn, stitched together from remnants of an older dream. It’s not a remix of “Agapa,” it’s a recursion. A soft reset through dust and drone.
Then “Jak spalić wieś” (“How to Burn a Village”) hits like a molotov wrapped in scripture. It’s short, chaotic, and haunting—half a ritual, half an unspoken warning. “Muszę iść” (“I Have to Go”) feels like the walk through the field after the fire. It’s full of the kind of sadness that doesn’t explain itself. It just is.
And then comes the title track, “Droga do domu.” A hushed, weathered goodbye. Not in the dramatic sense—more like the kind of goodbye you whisper to yourself when no one else is listening. There’s no climax. No grand finale. Just the slow exhale of something finally letting go.
This record moves like folklore written in disappearing ink. It’s full of symbolism, but none of it feels forced. It just lingers. WĘDROWCY~TUŁACZE~ZBIEGI has always operated in that space—somewhere between post-black metal, dark ambient, and experimental theater. But this is the first time they sound like they’re folding the map in half and walking off the edge.
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