BLACK WATER on Music, Emotion and Romania’s Alternative Pulse

There is a particular kind of music that never seeks immediate recognition. It reveals itself gradually, asking for patience instead of urgency and closeness instead of spectacle. Black Water inhabits that quiet territory, where every composition unfolds with remarkable restraint, allowing atmosphere, memory, and subtle emotional shifts to shape an experience that continues well beyond the act of listening.

Over the years, the Brașov-based project has cultivated a sound whose identity emerges almost instinctively. Dream pop textures, delicate vocal lines, and carefully measured arrangements converge into a body of work that values permanence over immediacy. Their latest EP, “Safe From Reality,” extends this artistic vision with the same understated confidence, tracing emotional landscapes whose intensity resides in nuance rather than excess.

Before their performance at Stray Lights Festival, we invited Anca Otescu and Marius Muntean into a conversation about artistic intuition, the slow maturation of a song, the emotional vocabulary that defines Black Water, and the quiet determination required to create independent music without surrendering its authenticity. What followed was a dialogue shaped by sincerity, reflection, and an enduring belief that music still possesses the ability to accompany those moments language can rarely reach.

Black Water has a very distinct identity. Did you discover this universe from the very beginning, or did you consciously build it, song by song?

Marius: Black Water has always lived in a melancholic universe, with darker overtones during the project’s early days. Once Anca joined the band, our music naturally began to embrace dream pop influences, inspired by artists like Cocteau Twins, Lush, and Cranes.

Anca: For me, it meant stepping into a completely different musical direction, one I only discovered after I started writing for Black Water, having spent many years playing with Fusioncore. It came very naturally; I never had to force it. It’s simply another side of who I am.

If you had to remove all genre labels, what would you want someone to understand about Black Water simply by listening to your music?

Marius: That it’s honest music. Music that comes from the heart, created without commercial compromises.

Anca: I don’t try to imitate any particular artist, even though I’m obviously influenced by many. But if someone were to say, “They sound exactly like…”, that definitely wouldn’t describe us.

Atmosphere seems just as important as melody in your music. Which comes first when you begin writing a song?

Marius: We usually start with an idea, either on guitar or synthesizers, which Anca then develops into a vocal melody. That vocal line plays a huge role in shaping the song, and ultimately becomes an essential part of its atmosphere.

Anca: For me, the atmosphere guides everything, the melody as well as the lyrics.

How do you know when a composition has reached its final form? Is there a defining moment, or do you simply stop searching?

Marius: There’s definitely an element of letting go. We could keep changing a song forever, but we’ve learned that there’s a point where the changes no longer make it better, they just make it different. Once we all feel that the song conveys what inspired us to write it in the first place, we let it go.

Anca: It’s a long road from the initial idea to the finished song. There’s a lot of polishing involved, but the most important thing is that we all feel it’s worth continuing to work on. At least for me, there’s a moment—a kind of click—when I feel I’ve stumbled upon a brilliant idea.

That said, we’ve also abandoned songs altogether. We even wrote lyrics for some of them, but they simply weren’t memorable enough.

Melancholy is often mistaken for sadness. What distinguishes the two for you when you translate them into music?

Marius: We don’t think melancholy necessarily means sadness. To us, it’s a form of reflection, a way of drawing closer to the things that truly matter. Music becomes a space where emotions are allowed to exist without being judged.

Anca: Some of our songs contain both, so I don’t really separate them. Geiko, for example, tells a sad story, but its ending—especially the vocal solo—feels more melancholic than sad. At least that’s how I experience it.

“Safe From Reality” suggests that reality is a place worth escaping from. Is music a refuge for you, or is it a way of looking more closely at the world around you?

Marius: Music gives me the time and the quiet I need to pay closer attention to what I’m living through, without necessarily searching for answers. If there’s melancholy in our songs, it’s because we’re drawn to the beauty of fragile things, and to the way emotions begin to make sense once you allow them to simply exist.

Anca: For me, it’s definitely a refuge, a place where I can express myself however I want. I’ve never made music out of obligation, whether contractual or just because I felt I should. Maybe that’s also why it has never brought me spectacular financial rewards.

But I’m okay with that. As long as there are people who connect with our songs, that’s enough to keep me creating and to give me hope that music made from the heart still has a place.

When you listen to the songs on “Safe From Reality” today, do they still carry the same emotional weight, or do they already belong to older versions of yourselves?

Marius: I’ve actually listened to the EP quite a lot since its release, just to see whether it still communicates what we wanted it to. Thankfully, I’ve been pleasantly surprised. (smiles)

Anca: To me, the songs still feel completely current, even though I wrote them during a particularly painful period of my life, I was going through several difficult dental procedures at the time. Oddly enough, that emotional and physical state actually helped. When you’re in pain, everything around you tends to look a little darker.

But the stories behind those songs are still very much alive today. (smiles)

Stray Lights Festival brings together projects that don’t try to sound alike. How important is it for you to be part of an artistic context rather than simply another name on a lineup?

Marius: It’s incredibly important to be part of a community where we all try to support one another as much as we can. We genuinely love the bands in Stray Lights. Some of them are already our friends, and we’re looking forward to meeting the others at the festival. That artistic context is what gives the festival its real value.

Anca: We’re genuinely happy that events like this are still happening. I can only imagine how difficult it is to bring all these artists together and keep a festival like this alive. I’m deeply grateful for every experience we’ve had—and continue to have—with this community of musicians.

If you could describe the experience you hope to create with your performance at Stray Lights Festival through a single image, what would it be?

Marius: Maybe a stingray resting peacefully on the ocean floor. (smiles) We also have an idea for the visuals, so hopefully we’ll be able to make it happen before the festival.

Anca: Waves gently washing over the shore. I’ve always associated that image with a place where every worry simply disappears.

For an underground band today, what’s more difficult: being heard or being remembered?

Marius: Music travels faster than ever nowadays. It’s easier than ever to reach people, but it’s just as easy to disappear among hundreds of new releases. For us, the goal isn’t to be heard by as many people as possible. It’s to leave something behind that stays with those who listen. Even if there aren’t many of them, if one of our songs continues to accompany someone long after it ends, then we feel it has found its place.

Anca: I think staying in people’s memories is definitely the harder part. That’s one of the reasons songwriting takes me such a long time. I genuinely try to write songs with memorable moments and lyrics that carry real meaning, not just words to fill the space.

How do you see Romania’s alternative music scene today? Does it feel like a community that’s gradually coming together, or more like a collection of isolated islands coexisting without really connecting?

Marius: We feel that Romania’s alternative scene is reaching a point where it’s becoming more confident in its own identity. More and more artists are creating music that doesn’t follow a formula, but instead embraces a sound and artistic direction that’s uniquely their own.

At the same time, it’s still a scene sustained largely by the dedication of artists, promoters, and communities who choose to support independent music. That’s why every concert matters, every venue willing to give a new band a chance matters, and every single person who shows up to listen matters.

We believe there’s enormous potential. Things are growing slowly, but in a healthy and authentic way. That’s exactly what we’re trying to contribute to with Stray Lights.

Anca: To be honest, I’m not very up to date with everything happening in Romania’s underground scene outside of Stray Lights. But one thing is clear, there’s definitely more happening in Bucharest than in Brașov. (smiles)

What kind of places do you find yourselves drawn to when you’re not looking for inspiration, but simply for peace?

Marius: Since we’re based in Brașov, the most natural thing for us is to wander through the surrounding mountains. Personally, I also love going to the theatre.

Anca: I’m lucky enough to have a quiet garden behind my house, and that’s where I retreat whenever I need a moment to myself.

Is there a book, a film, or another form of art that has changed the way you listen to music?

Marius: Without a doubt, the book that completely transformed my perspective on music is “Facing the Other Way: The Story of 4AD.”

Is there something about you that never makes its way into your music, even though it’s part of who you are?

Marius: We deliberately stay away from socio-political subjects, regardless of our personal beliefs. For us, making art is about exploring experiences and emotions that build bridges between people.

Anca: I don’t write about politics, religion, or spirituality either.

Do you think people choose music because of who they already are, or does music gradually become something that shapes their identity?

Marius: (laughs) I think it’s a bit of both.

If you’re naturally drawn to a particular genre or band, it’s probably because something in that music resonates with your own ideas or experiences. But as you continue your musical journey, new experiences and new emotions inevitably appear. Over time, a relationship develops between the listener and the music—a kind of dance, where each side contributes something to the other. That’s how I think genuine emotional connection is born.

Anca: I don’t believe anyone listens to exactly the same music their entire life. Of course, the music we loved when we were younger leaves a lasting imprint, but our tastes evolve, and mine certainly have.

I think that’s true for everyone, even if some people insist otherwise. You simply can’t remain the same person you were at twenty. Change is part of being alive.

If your music could erase one feeling from a listener’s life for just a few minutes, what would you want it to be?

Marius: Fear.

Anca: Depression. Our songs are about the emotions that break us down. I think life’s darkest moments become a little easier to bear when we know—when we truly feel—that we’re not alone.

Thank you for the interview, we really enjoyed these questions! (smiles)