From Jakarta to the Depths of Darkness
The way music finds you is sometimes as powerful as the music itself. In the case of Denisa, an artist from Jakarta, Indonesia, I stumbled across her only a few weeks ago—thanks to one of my most trusted sources for new sounds : Deathwish Inc., co-founded by Jacob Bannon from Converge and home of BONEFLOWER, Gouge Away, State Faults…. That’s the beauty of recommendations: they open the door to discoveries that feel both accidental and inevitable.
At first glance, Denisa’s story seems to invite the phrase, “it hasn’t always been like that.” Her earlier work lived more in the elegant alt-pop singer-songwriter sphere—graceful melodies and intimate reflections—rather than the darker, metallic territory she now embraces. But a deep dive into her catalogue (a manageable one, with ‘just’ an EP and an album before her breakthrough) reveals that the shadows were always there, quietly simmering beneath the surface.
Her debut album, ‘Bloodbuzz’ (2021), presented a delicate yet cutting exploration of heartbreak. At times, it channeled the quiet intensity of Radiohead or Bon Iver, two of her clear touchstones. There were no black-and-white photos of her brooding with a cigarette in a churchyard just yet, but the sense of pain and world-weariness was unmistakable, already bubbling up and waiting for the right form of expression.
That form arrived with ‘St. Bernadette’ (2024).
Released just a few weeks ago, the album marks a decisive shift. Denisa’s agile, expressive voice—ghostly and intimate, distant and devastatingly close at the same time—remains the centerpiece. But once the a cappella opener « The Annuler » fades with its chilling plea, “just let me sleep at peace tonight,” the music plunges into far darker terrain.
— Denisa
The first proper track, Commandment, opens with a line that could stand as a thesis for Denisa’s career to date: “The light at the end of the tunnel never showed up / So I settled for darkness instead.”
That darkness, however, is not emptiness—it’s fertile ground. Across ‘St. Bernadette’, Denisa and her band weave together sludgy-doom riffs, atmospheric unease, and sharp, bitterly poetic lyrics that grapple with faith, loss, and disillusionment. At 25, she already demonstrates the courage to lean into the abyss, not with defeat, but with a striking sense of ownership.
Denisa’s earliest spark came from a very different source: watching Avril Lavigne’s « Complicated » on TV when she was six. But while her journey began with pop-punk idols, it has led her toward something far more visceral. If her debut suggested she was searching for the light, St. Bernadette proves she has found a strange kind of home in the dark.
Comparisons to Emma Ruth Rundle or Chelsea Wolfe may arise, but they risk flattening her distinct identity. What makes Denisa remarkable is precisely that she doesn’t sit comfortably in anyone’s shadow. Instead, she wields her darkness with clarity and daring, carving out a voice that feels unmistakably her own.
