Rave Culture in Ukraine: From Underground Beats to Resistance Rhythms

Ukrainian rave culture has become more than nightlife — it is survival, rebuilding, and reclaiming the future. What began in the shadows of post-Soviet collapse has transformed into one of Europe’s most politically charged and creatively fearless rave scenes, with beats that refuse to be silenced.
From the legendary Kazantyp festival of the 1990s to wartime “clean-up raves” in ruined villages, Ukraine’s rave movement has evolved into both cultural therapy and political resistance. Today, it unites communities, raises funds for the Armed Forces, and inspires the world with its resilience.
From Kazantyp to CXEMA: The Roots of Ukrainian Rave
While international media like i-D and VICE began paying attention to Ukraine’s rave culture around 2014, often framing it as an escape from the country’s turmoil, the reality is more complex. The history of Ukrainian raves dates back to the 1990s, emerging in parallel with other European post-industrial scenes.
Amid a new era of independence and openness to Western cultural influences, young Ukrainians started experimenting with electronic music and DIY underground parties. Cities like Kyiv, Kharkiv, Odesa, and Lviv became fertile ground for this burgeoning scene, often occupying post-industrial spaces—warehouses, abandoned factories, and railway depots—that echoed the rawness and freedom of the music itself.
One of the earliest and most iconic parties was Torba. This gathering attracted a mixed crowd: entrepreneurs from Ukraine’s early capitalist wave, artists, and young people hungry for something new. These early ravers embraced what they called “music without end”—electronic sets that flowed continuously, a sharp contrast to the song-by-song disco culture of the past. It was a break from post-Soviet formality and a leap toward cultural experimentation.
The biggest symbol of this early wave was Kazantyp—a legendary open-air festival held in Crimea starting in the 1990s. It was a place without rules or genres, where techno, drum’n’bass, house, and experimental sounds coexisted freely. Kazantyp offered musical discovery and radical freedom. People danced, dressed how they wanted (or didn’t), and explored new identities in what we would now call a safe space. Many returned home from Kazantyp inspired to create their own pockets of sound and freedom—and thus, Ukraine’s underground club culture began to grow.
By the early 2000s, Ukraine had developed a distinctive rave identity. It was both inspired by European rave capitals like Berlin and rooted in local urban subcultures. These raves became spaces of creative self-expression and defiance—a countercultural response to social conservatism and political instability.
Global Spotlight: Ukrainian Raves and Their Cultural Impact
After a slowdown in the early 2010s, the post-Maidan years brought a new surge of creative energy. The turning point came with the emergence of CXEMA (pronounced “Skhema”)—a large-scale post-industrial rave launched in Kyiv in 2014. It became a global name, not only for its brutalist aesthetics and cutting-edge sound but for its timing: it captured the raw emotional energy of a society in flux and gave it a place to breathe.
CXEMA’s events—held in massive industrial zones—quickly gained cult status not only in Ukraine but across Europe. It became known for pushing the boundaries of techno and for creating safe, inclusive spaces for youth, queerness, and resistance.
CXEMA marked the start of a renaissance. By the late 2010s, Ukrainian rave culture was setting trends. Its gritty post-industrial aesthetic, political edge, and raw emotionality contributed to a broader recognition of Ukraine as a vital node in the global electronic music scene.
Inspired by CXEMA’s success, a new generation of promoters emerged across the country—in Lviv, Odesa, Kharkiv, Dnipro, Ivano-Frankivsk. One of the most notable examples is Kultura Zvuka in Kharkiv. What began as a vinyl and gear store turned into a Sunday gathering for friends, which then grew into a series of club nights. Eventually, the collective built its own club and studio from the ruins of an abandoned building that had sat unused for 30 years.
Founded in 2017 by friends united by music, Povitrya sparked a revival of Odesa’s rave scene. Though Odesa saw rave peaks in the 2000s, the scene collapsed by 2010. After the 2014 Revolution of Dignity, a new wave of ravers searched for ways to express hope and identity. Povitrya rose in that vacuum, organizing warehouse raves with legal status and international appeal.
Despite setbacks from COVID-19, they pressed on. By 2021, their events drew visitors from across Europe.
The War and the Beat: Raves After the 2022 Invasion
The full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 profoundly disrupted all aspects of life, including nightlife. Clubs closed, artists fled or joined the Armed Forces, and public gatherings became unsafe due to missile attacks and blackouts. But Ukraine’s rave scene has not disappeared—it has transformed. What once existed primarily as a space for subcultural expression has become a powerful form of cultural resistance. Ukrainians continue to organize events not just for the music, but to defend and preserve their national identity. In a time when everything can end in an instant, each party becomes an act of defiance and resilience—a celebration of heritage, a protest against erasure, and a declaration that Ukrainian culture will endure.
Today’s raves serve multiple purposes at once: they are mass therapy, a refuge for connection and healing, a vehicle for community-building, and often a means of raising funds for the Armed Forces. Events are held in bomb shelters, daytime open-air locations, or paused entirely to prioritize survival and mutual aid. Many artists turned their energy to organizing fundraisers, releasing benefit compilations, and using their platforms to support Ukraine’s defense and humanitarian efforts.
One of the most remarkable examples of rave culture's wartime adaptation is the Repair Together initiative. Launched in the summer of 2022, this grassroots movement combined rave energy with volunteerism. Organizers and participants traveled to villages devastated by Russian attacks and helped clear debris, rebuild homes, and restore community spaces, to the sound of techno.
Wearing work gloves and dancing to DJs spinning sets in the rubble, young Ukrainians reclaimed joy and solidarity in the face of trauma. Participants came from both nearby Ukrainian cities and far beyond, with some traveling from countries like Germany, Portugal, and the United States. These “clean-up raves” became symbolic acts of both physical and cultural reconstruction. They drew international attention, spotlighting a new model of activism that merges art, community, and political resilience.
“Repair Together” demonstrated that rave culture in Ukraine is a form of cultural resistance. It blurs the lines between party and protest, healing and action. In this way, Ukrainian rave culture has become a global inspiration, showing how subcultures can respond to crisis with a collective purpose.
Anastasiia Stepanenko, grant writer, project manager, cultural critic, expert at the United Ukraine Think Tank