People leave, and time has the appalling manners to keep moving. A night of company gives way to an empty morning; the room that briefly felt habitable becomes a place for counting what has gone missing. For Obychno Odyn, that familiar collapse belongs to a much larger uncertainty, where even the smallest assurances of affection or stability can disappear before we have learned to trust them.
The Turin-based coldwave and post-punk project of Ukraine expat Vadym Protsenko explores that precarious existence on the new single “Уходят люди и часы”, a title that can be translated as “People and Hours Pass.” Its accompanying video, premiering here, takes the song’s profound isolation outdoors, into tall grass, wooded paths, and the dark recesses of old stone ruins.
A crunchy snare beat marches through a wash of windlike white noise before the bass establishes its brooding, melodic pattern. There is something almost reassuring about that low-end repetition, a foothold beneath a guitar line intent on making the ground uneven. Fuzzy and discordant, the guitar bends into a jagged melody with the pinched, wayward quality of an out-of-tune saxophone. Protsenko’s voice hangs farther back, its ghostly contours extended by cold reverb, as though the words have traveled across an empty building before reaching us. It makes an appropriately spectral opening to October, with enough rhythmic insistence to keep despair on its feet.
The Russian-language lyrics describe a life in which direction and meaning are gradually becoming illegible. People and hours depart together, leaving little beyond the silent business of passing time. A burning planet continues to turn while everyone attends to their own concerns; words are thrown away, and even home offers no guarantee of freedom. Against that wider devastation, the possibility of being needed becomes a modest, painfully temporary refuge. The closing lines, translated into English, bring that feeling into focus:
“Sometimes, we are needed by someone
Sometimes, at night, we are not alone.
But then the morning comes
And once again, there is not a soul nearby”
That repeated “Sometimes” allows a little tenderness into the song, then measures how briefly it lasts. Morning brings the return of the same absence, sharpened by having been interrupted. The bleakness comes from knowing that closeness is possible while having no confidence that it will remain.
The video gives that uncertainty a grainy, unsettled physical presence. Guitar and bass performances alternate between daylight beneath the trees and murky passages enclosed by masonry. Close-ups catch faces through branches and long grass; elsewhere, the image turns upside down, briefly dislodging the performers from solid ground. The greenery crowds the frame, making these open spaces feel surprisingly secluded. There is an appealing awkwardness to the musicians’ black clothes against all that growth, as though they have brought the emotional temperature of an empty club into the middle of the afternoon.
Watch the video for “Уходят люди и часы” below:
Protsenko founded Obychno Odyn in Bucharest in 2025, responding to global upheaval and the situation in his home country. Writing in Russian and English, he draws on the French coldwave of the 1980s, particularly Trop Tard and Bunker Strasse. The eight-song debut album Излияние (Outpouring) followed in 2026, alongside the project’s first live performances in Bucharest, with DJ sets by Corina Sucarov. The solo project expands into a duo onstage: Protsenko handles vocals and guitar, joined by bassist Marcello Aloisio, who became part of the live lineup this year.
“Уходят люди и часы” is available now on streaming platforms. Listen below and purchase the single via Bandcamp.
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