Anastasia Rydlevskaya makes rage feel methodical on Alchemia. Her fourth full-length album takes the four classical stages of alchemy and turns them into a hard-edged account of betrayal, trauma and feminine power.
Nigredo, Albedo and Calcinatio, Citrinitas, then Rubedo each push the heroine into a new state. The result sits firmly in dark electronic music, but it also carries experimental pop and pagan motifs.
That framing gives the record a clear dramatic line from collapse to Lilith’s arrival.
Rydlevskaya wrote, produced and recorded the album in her bedroom. She also handled most of its mixing and mastering, with Aliaksandr Karneichuk, or KorneJ, adding the final polish.
That level of control matters here because Alchemia argues for ownership of voice, boundaries and story. The album comes from a Poland-based songwriter and song producer who has released three earlier albums since 2023.
When I Can’t Speak, Mugwort and Snake Charmer have passed one million streams collectively. So this release arrives with a defined creative history behind it.
Her biography also resists a neat caption. After leaving Belarus following the 2020 political crisis, Rydlevskaya built her artistic practice in Poland.
She works in Belarusian, English and French, and her output joins music with her own visual art. That cross-disciplinary habit matters to an album that thinks in images of lead, fire, ice and red transformation.
Her work also treats mental health and self-acceptance as serious concerns. Alchemia brings those concerns into a firmer, more confrontational shape.
The album begins in Nigredo, the blackening phase. Was It All Worth It? places a suicidal crisis beside pain and memories of betrayal. Then Plumbum gives that breakdown the weight of lead, while people nearby keep smiling.
The title comes from the metal associated with Nigredo, and that detail makes the record’s darkness feel physical. Instead of rushing past the worst moment, Rydlevskaya lets it remain heavy.
Albedo and Calcinatio move into anger. The Belarusian-language Pusteča rejects victimhood through aggression and calls out an abuser’s internal cold.
Snow Queen turns fire and ashes into armour. Later, Citrinitas shifts the pressure outward. Your Woman and I’m Freaking Crazy oppose external validation and self-deprecating love, while Did You Tell Her? takes private memory into a public confrontation with hypocrisy.
The structure has the escalating logic of a four-part drama. Each section alters the stakes without softening the damage that came before.
Rydlevskaya’s production palette keeps changing shape. She moves from Steve Reich-like minimalism to harsh dark trip-hop, cold cavernous tribal rhythms and fast acid techno.
That range suits an album built on transformation. Repetition can hold tension in place, while faster electronic motion can turn pressure into action.

Her recognizable vocal polyphony adds a human fracture to the design. Rather than chase smooth release, the record keeps friction alive.
Rubedo closes the album with Lilith. Rydlevskaya connects that stage to Jungian Shadow integration, the Wild Woman archetype and fear of feminine rage.
Lilith claims sovereignty instead of submission. Listeners seeking dark electronic, experimental pop and pagan edges have a direct entry in “Alchemia”.
It is an album for people who want emotional intensity with a clear narrative shape.
“Alchemia” does not treat rebirth as a soft glow after pain. It presents rebirth as work, anger and a decision to speak without apology.
Rydlevskaya’s next steps will matter because this record establishes a demanding standard for her own voice.
Hit play for the heat, then stay for the force that pushes every stage forward.

