Chapter 06
Chapter 6. Underground Rooms and Electronic Futures
4 min
The Czech underground was not a style preset. It was a network of musicians, poets, organisers, private spaces and audiences formed partly because official institutions denied access. Its mythology can become as flattening as state propaganda if every difficult sound is declared heroic.
The Plastic People make an unofficial public
The Plastic People of the Universe drew from the Velvet Underground, Frank Zappa, Czech poetry and their own severe ensemble language. “Jak bude po smrti” sets words by Ladislav Klíma inside a dark, repetitive frame. “Konec léta” and “Bylo to nedávno” show other textures in the catalogue.
The group's arrests and trial in the 1970s became part of the chain of events around Charter 77. Yet the music was not composed to illustrate a future civics lesson. Hear the viola, low reeds, bass, drums and recited or sung Czech text. The awkwardness is purposeful. An unofficial concert created a public precisely because people had to build the room themselves.
DG 307, associated with Pavel Zajíček and Mejla Hlavsa, pushed poetry and experimental rock into another territory. “Nářek dosud nenarozenejch dětí” is not background rebellion; it asks the listener to accept fractured form and verbal intensity.
Iva Bittová refuses the border between folk and experiment
Iva Bittová sings, speaks, whispers, cries, bows and plucks the violin. Her performances can invoke Moravian melody, contemporary composition, improvisation and theatre within minutes. “V zemi neorané” and “Hladce” give different glimpses, but a live video is essential because gesture and sound are inseparable.
Calling her work folk fusion understates the authorship. She does not place a traditional tune over a modern backing track. Voice and violin generate form in real time, with rhythm emerging from breath, bow and body.
Jazz turns Moravian material without embalming it
Emil Viklický is a pianist whose modern jazz vocabulary can meet Moravian song without making the source quaint. On “Vinko, vino” and “Za horama, za lesama...”, listen for what happens to melody under jazz harmony and improvisation. Jiří Stivín brings flute, recorder, saxophone and a playful intelligence to Czech jazz; standards such as “Autumn Leaves” sit beside more idiosyncratic work.
Brno and Prague both sustain jazz institutions, but players circulate widely. Current Czech improvisation also meets Balkan, Slovak, Polish and global scenes. A club calendar is useful only when it names the ensemble and date.
Electronics grow from detail
Floex, the project of Tomáš Dvořák, combines clarinet, electronics and compositional atmosphere. “Pointilice” feels constructed from small illuminated particles; “Phi-Log” develops another balance of acoustic breath and digital environment. His work for games such as Machinarium and Samorost made Czech electronic composition audible to listeners who may never visit a club.
DVA builds imaginary folk-pop worlds with invented language, looping, acoustic instruments and theatrical voices. “Tihop” and “Carrier Bag” are playful without being slight. Midi Lidi, formed in Brno, uses Czech lyrics, deadpan humour and electronic pulse; “Rozhledna” offers a good entrance. Never Sol and Lenka Dusilová bring electronic texture into intimate and alternative songwriting.
Hip-hop adds another urban language. Vladimir 518 and PSH connect rap to Prague visual culture, while Gipsy.cz brings Romani identity and crossover pressure into the field. Current Czech music is not waiting to be added after tradition. It is already changing how tradition, language and city life are heard.
Independent labels, regional cultural centres and conservatories keep these workshops connected. A Brno musician may release through a Prague label, rehearse with Moravian folk players and appear at an Ostrava showcase in the same season. That circulation is easy to miss when every artist is filed under a single genre. Follow the credits on one current album: arrangers, guest players, studios and small festivals often reveal the living network more clearly than a national chart. The most useful contemporary portrait is therefore built from collaborations as well as headline names.
For a current listening trip, build each evening from a programme, not a city reputation. In Prague, look beyond the large halls to jazz, experimental and electronic listings; confirm the actual act because a famous club name says little about tonight's music. In Brno, compare Philharmonic or contemporary-composition programmes with small venues and Moravian-rooted projects. In Ostrava, use Colours and Czech Music Crossroads as annual snapshots, then search for local concerts outside festival week. Regional folklore calendars require the same care: a verbuňk competition, bagpipe festival and village feast offer different access and etiquette. Record the year, organiser and ensemble before travelling. This keeps the route reliable as scenes change and prevents heritage tourism from pretending that one permanent show can represent a region.
