Already a pop star in her own country, DARA is hoping to win glory for Bulgaria with her song “Bangaranga”, which she will perform at this year’s Eurovision Song Contest in Vienna, Austria.
Known for hits such as “Thunder” and “Call Me”, she has achieved a string of number one hits in Bulgaria and has also mentored future generations of musicians on The Voice of Bulgaria, in 2021 and 2022.
Her latest album, ADHDARA, was released last year.
Hi DARA, what should our readers know about you?
I’m Darina, a 27-year-old singer and songwriter from Varna, a city on the Black Sea coast of Bulgaria. I grew up with music the way some children grow up with sport: obsessively, constantly, like there was no other option. I attended the National School of Arts in Varna, where I specialised in folklore singing, which might surprise people who hear “Bangaranga” for the first time. But that training in traditional Bulgarian vocal technique, with all its microtones and emotional rawness, is absolutely in my DNA. It shaped the way I hear music and the way I use my voice, even when I’m making something that sounds nothing like folklore.
I finished third on the Bulgarian X Factor when I was sixteen, signed to one of the biggest labels in Bulgaria, and have been releasing music ever since – in Bulgarian, in English, in whatever language a feeling demands. Over the years I’ve had number-one singles at home, I’ve mentored the next generation of artists as a coach on The Voice of Bulgaria, and last year I released my most personal album yet, ADHDARA – named after the fact that I was diagnosed with ADHD as an adult. That album was about owning every contradictory part of yourself: the chaos, the sensitivity, the fire. It was terrifying and liberating in equal measure. And now here I am, taking all of that to Eurovision in Vienna, representing Bulgaria. I still find it hard to believe – in the best possible way.
Can you tell us about the inspiration and meaning behind your song “Bangaranga”?
“Bangaranga” is pop music with folklore bones. The word itself comes from Jamaican slang – it means uproar, commotion, a beautiful kind of disorder. It has this raw, phonetic power that bypasses translation – you feel it before you understand it. We wanted a song that could land in Vienna or London or anywhere and hit you physically before it hit you intellectually. When I think about what it truly is for me, at its deepest level, I keep coming back to the kukeri – the ancient Bulgarian ritual where men dress in extraordinary costumes of bells and fur and animal masks, and move through villages at the start of the year making the most ferocious noise imaginable. The purpose is to scare the bad spirits away. The energy is overwhelming, almost frightening – and yet it is entirely joyful, entirely communal, entirely alive. That is Bangaranga. It is noise and fire and rhythm deployed as a force for good – to chase away whatever darkness has settled, to shake the room back to life. “Bangaranga” is a riot – but it’s a happy one. An invitation, not a threat. “Come in, surrender to the lights, no one’s going to sleep tonight.”
What would it mean to you to win the Eurovision Song Contest for Bulgaria?
Eurovision for Bulgaria is not a given. We’ve been absent from the contest for three years. Our greatest moment was Kristian Kostov’s extraordinary second place in 2017 – Kristian is a dear friend, and that result meant a lot to the country. A win would be in a completely different dimension. But I want to be honest with you. Winning would be extraordinary, and I will compete to win, absolutely. But what drives me just as much is the idea of Bulgaria being seen. Really seen. We are a small country with an enormous cultural soul – ancient, complex, stubborn in the best sense. We have a musical heritage that the world has barely scratched the surface of. If “Bangaranga” can be the song that makes someone in Manchester or Edinburgh or Brighton pull out their phone and look up Bulgaria – look up its music, its coast, its literature, its people – then I’ve already achieved something real.
