Elita - Hell Hill (2025) [Hi-Res]

Elita contains multitudes. Their sound is neck-breaking in its stylistic breadth: industrial guitar tones, danceable post-punk basslines, a dynamic percussive drive a la Model/Actriz, a narcotic electro haze in the vein of Crystal Castles, and a palpable sensual and linguistic awareness that recalls Mitski. Mix this with a varied, vaguely threatening ambience that synthesizes elements of Grouper, Public Image Ltd., and Nurse With Wound, and imbue it with the mischievous energy of FCUKERS, and you’ll start to get the idea.

While Elita is the band name, it’s also the moniker of their lead singer, as well as the name of her distinctive jewelry brand: an array of chains adorned with switch blades, brass knuckles, and bows. She’s presented herself wholly and with vulnerability — those who are destined to click with her essence do.

All three members of the band, Elita, Krank, and Tim, are from St. John’s, Newfoundland, which they describe as a haunted island. Elita and Tim not too long ago lived in an old Victorian house mansion, turned into apartments; Tim says that “The space was insanely beautiful and way too cheap considering the details of it’s build. Its believed to be one of the most haunted houses in St. John’s”

You can hear that foggy, dark influence throughout their discography. In spite of the ghostly influence, it’s glitchy and online, but with a beating bloody heart bumping oxygen throughout a soft human body.

While Elita have built their reputation on the back of provocatively-titled songs like “She Bangs Like a Fairy on Acid” and “Masturbating in a Coffin,” dismiss them as mere edgelords at your own peril. With a fast-growing audience (1M+ Spotify, 2M+ combined social audience), Elita — who’ve opened for the likes of Melanie Martinez, signed to AWAL at the end of last year, graced the Spotify Canada NMF billboard, have monthly streaming stats in the millions, and still manage to keep an effortless mysteriousness to them — is gearing up for an explosive year.