Idziemy w disco is what happens when you throw glitter at a burning world and refuse to apologize for it. Created by Brokatowe Kocyki — the fiercest disco rebels east of the Vistula — this piece blends sweaty beats, cheap greenscreen magic, and raw street footage into a messy, glorious middle finger to despair.
The track itself is pure protest-on-the-dancefloor: born from the chaos of post-2020 Poland, a country where closing borders, banning abortions, and beating queers became part of the daily news cycle. Instead of writing sad songs about it, Brokatowe Kocyki grabbed a synth and some glitter and decided to go full disco riot.
Visually, Idziemy w disco is a deliberate hot mess: glittery drag figures clumsily pasted onto pandemic-empty Lublin streets, chaotically dropped into real footage from pro-choice protests. The greenscreen cuts are rough, the aesthetic is homemade, and none of it tries to hide the seams — because when the world looks broken, why pretend otherwise? This is protest as meme, as low-budget survival art, as DIY glamour against a backdrop of fear and police sirens.
The lyrics don’t sugarcoat anything either: there are Nazis on the streets, TV channels spitting hate, fake bailouts, broken promises. There’s rage, exhaustion, and a dirty kind of hope that refuses to die. Lines like “fuck all of this, we’re going disco” hit like battle cries — reminders that joy isn’t a betrayal, it’s a weapon.
Presented as part of the You’ll Never Walk Alone exhibition at Galeria Labirynt, Idziemy w disco crashed into the sterile white walls of the gallery like a chaotic glitter bomb. It wasn’t there to be tasteful. It wasn’t there to heal. It was there to be loud, messy, angry, fabulous — everything protest art is often told not to be.
Brokatowe Kocyki don’t aim for polish or perfection. They aim for survival, for sparkle in the ruins, for screaming “FUCK IT” loud enough that it turns into a beat you can dance to. Because sometimes the most radical thing you can do when the world tries to kill your joy is to slap on some glitter, rip up the rules, and go disco anyway.
The beat will drop,
the hit will come.
I was sitting under a blanket,
in the pandemic nights,
while my brain kept getting fucked up
by listening to all the bigoted bullshit.
Should’ve stopped listening,
could’ve been fucking —
but in Poland there’s no chance for that,
just Nazi boys everywhere.
They could at least be naked.
They closed the borders,
they enraged my uterus,
so I’m hitting the streets
with the feminist riot squad.
The Nazis will beat you up,
and you could’ve just been teaching in school.
From state TV, they scream about the LGBT+ ideology.
Fuck all of this,
we’re going disco,
with the glitter’s sparkle,
we’ll smash the system.
They handed me a bailout,
but I’m still fighting,
pouring gold
over this Polish mud.
Eastern Poland is a fucking crime,
free zones — muddy roads,
and even in the EU, they don’t want this shit.
Open the borders,
I’m horny for freedom.
Fascists and police —
Poland’s true coalition.
I still have my sister,
as long as she’s not beaten down with a baton.
Wreck the hate truck,
and I’ll give you a blowjob.
Fuck all of this,
we’re going disco,
with the glitter’s sparkle,
we’ll smash the system.