She’s unafraid to use original, yet grounded metaphors that showcase her unique empathy. “The Turkish moon shines on wet bread / in the warehouse of food that will spoil tomorrow / hungry people look like wolves,” she sings in the title track of her debut album Hejno černejch koček, released three years ago on the Divnosti label.
After years of performing solo with just her guitar and piano, Kvietah surrounded herself with a band. Last year, with the release of her second album, Díky, včely (Indies Scope), she reformed the band and named it The Kvietas, transforming her intimate songs into an energetic live show. What remains are existential laments, reflections on the present, and unconventional poetry that captures the mystery of everyday life. “Death walks across the floor with dirty feet,” Kvietah sings, her fears echoing a generational message, one that was shaped with the help of producer Nikola Šolaja. Her indie-pop songs, both subtle and expansive, draw from the best of folk while also demanding big stages and mainstream attention.