Elkka’s music weaves sounds that can command dancefloors, and though her vocals have been part of that commanding flow, it was only an accompaniment, like the tracks in her mixes. With Prism of Pleasure, Elkka’s debut LP, it’s become a big part that helps the music build an emotional thematic core, pushing away from more thinly veiled tracks that elevate varying moods and rhythms. As an editorial for the New Yorker would write, “In a sense, the album marks the rebirth of Kirby’s singing career, only now her voice is not an accompaniment to the music but part of it,” and that’s its shining light, the vocals, as she uses to compose a statement about vulnerability. The avenues taken with each production, from club bangers to ambient techno to euphoric house anthems, add depth to the encompassing sounds that envelop them. In many ways, the album is personal to the artistry of Elkka; in being so, she never forgets what the music is supposed to represent by not placating the message with the output—whether ambient or euphoric or purely elevated synths, the dancefloor doesn’t get forgotten, even when one wishes it didn’t end.
Elkka makes it impactful from the jump, opening the album with her voice on the remarkable “Break all my walls down,” which exemplifies what singing is to her. The push towards making her vocals a significant part of the album creates this beautiful connecting narrative that bolsters what may be heard on its surface, further amplifying the push to fall deep into this album and let it infuse you with its masterful layers. Much of this push came after the passing of her father; she wanted to express resilience, and as she would tell Apple Music, “I decided I had to finish this, and I had to do that for him, for me, for my family. He wouldn’t have wanted his passing to derail my passion and my future,” that passion being more than just a DJ. She weaves an identity that bolsters what gets delivered with visceral poignancy when reflecting on topics that matter to her, and naturally, it’s love and the universality of it. What I love about the album is its fluid throughline that immerses you in its sounds, never forgetting what embodies the music, even through its unique transitions.
Though the vocals play an important role, the production has its own identity that boastfully parallels it as you maneuver through these intricate sounds that can shift on a dime, like the beautiful transition from the more longing “Crushhh” to the techno banger in “Air Tight,” embodying their sense of wonder and direction. It’s similarly the case with “Passionfruit” which comes between two dancefloor concoctions, the former, “Your Skin” amplifies the house over the euphoria, while the latter “I Just Want To Love You,” a swift and weightless beat that beautifully meshes garage elements into the mix, giving you a slight surprise when it comes after the more avant-garde, ambient techno through the beautifully paced “Passionfruit.” What I love about “Passionfruit” is that it is the antithesis of what she pushes with the vocals; additionally, the construct teaches patience, giving you a moment to breathe and letting the music flow through you effortlessly. It makes the journey you take with Elkka more rewarding, especially with having an underlying context to each song, though not all is as direct as what Elkka noted about “Right Here.”
“Right Here” is one of the most poignant tracks off Prism of Pleasure as it comes from the essence of Elkka’s core; she wrote it before her father’s funeral, as she would tell Apple Music, and from this grief came empowerment, and that’s what the song holds to. It buoys the idea of standing firm instead of walking away from negativity, whether it is love or being a woman in this world, having her cold-hearted sense of self without getting dissuaded from the actions of others. She relishes who she is and what she takes that gets thrown at her, never letting it push her aside. The homage to her father in this way is beautiful and gripping. It builds this aurora that allows us to focus on the words and hear how firm her growth has been through her journey in music, from the early singles to excellent mixes. This poignancy comes through similarly with the direct closer, “FCKD It,” which has Elkka being direct with the dissolution of the relationship she is making it a focal point; unfortunately, it is such a banger it makes this critic disappointed it ends swiftly, making on yearn for me tune from the dynamo singer-songwriter/DJ.
Prism of Pleasure is one of the best debuts this year. It does so much to create an impactful message about her person, and that drive she offers to fans. It’s a great detachment from previous works, as past works felt very in line with fitting the dancefloor aesthetic but on her terms, as she is doing here with some of the club-pop that gets infused beneath. It’s a top 5 record of the year, so that should be a lot of weight coming from me. All I can say is give it a spin, and more than once, let it entrench your soul, the club music that packs a punch, unlike what Charli XCX did with brat.
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