Ragnara drenched dark pop in smoke and shadow in her sensually visceral latest release, Afterlife. Written and produced by Pauline Shildkrot, then mixed and mastered by Slava Serafimovich, the single unfurls as a cinematic exploration of surrender, transformation and the fear of the unknown, while keeping its hooks sharp enough for listeners who like their darkness with a spectrally electric pop charge.
Drifting between the heart-wrenching histrionics of vocalists in the vein of Amy Lee and arcanely distorted harmonies which refract into the production, Ragnara gave the haunting release an ethereally awakening touch. She knows exactly how to thematically balance the fervour that spills across the synths in Afterlife, which toys with the fragility of mortality through 90s Euro-dance-esque power that could keep an arena illuminated, literally and figuratively.
The opening synth feels like something being swallowed by its own shadow, pulling the listener into a filmic space where desire starts to look suspiciously like to danger. Ragnara moulds that tension with an expert hand, letting the track question whether surrender offers salvation or whether longing can drag us somewhere far stranger than expected.
Death is artfully used as a parable for the swathes of uncertainty we tread the waters of daily. Instead of Afterlife feeling macabre, Ragnara touched every trigger point with poised, pensively poetic grace.
Afterlife is now available on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify.
Review by Amelia Vandergast