Elsa Hewitt’s music is a kaleidoscope: the closer you peer into it, the more you begin to notice complex shapes and intricate patterns beneath its shifting layers. Obscuring her ethereal vocals in a haze of warped synths and samples, the British artist crafts hypnagogic beats that feel like a half-forgotten dream, its narrative thread vanishing from memory to leave behind only an inscrutable emotional resonance.
Hewitt has been exploring this musical space for more than a decade, progressively revealing new layers of her artistry with each release. Her singular sound collides dream pop with experimental electronica, its introspective lyricism met with densely textural sound design, producing songs that feel somehow both abstract and personal.
Her latest project is , an album crafted across four years, begun during the pandemic lockdowns in her South London home before the artist ventured north to find solace in solitude. Across its 12 tracks, Hewitt sings over an elaborate collage of nebulous synths, treated field recordings, and beats that knock in unexpected time signatures, their odd metres heightening its disorienting, lysergic feel: this wandering, wondrous music is some of the artist’s best yet.
