What does it take to truly know yourself? Amira Elfeky is still figuring that out — starting with her brain.
“According to science, my frontal lobe has just developed,” says the Los Angeles-based singer when asked where she’s at in her journey of self-discovery. “I think every single year I become a new version of myself and a more positive version of myself — because mental health is the epicenter of my existence, and all I want to do is get better. It’s interesting as an artist, because you’re doing that in front of people, and it completely reflects who you are to them, forever. Whereas, in my personal life, no one’s watching. It’s a very separate process, between art and life.”
As one of the fastest-rising voices in Gen Z’s nu-metal revival, Elfeky is evolving in real time — onstage, online and in front of a rapt fanbase that hangs on her every word. And the pressure feels immense.
Her first major-label full-length looms — a high-stakes moment for any artist. A debut album isn’t just a milestone, it’s a demand to distill oneself into something coherent, permanent and loud enough to rise above the noise. But Elfeky has never been one to shrink from the moment, no matter its enormity.
Channeling the cathartic churn of Deftones and Linkin Park and the gothic drama of Evanescence, Elfeky fuses high-melodicism and theatricality with searing emotional candor — a combination that’s quickly built her a cultish following. Not just the kind that remixes Reels and reposts TikToks, but the kind that Sharpies lyrics onto leather jackets, drives for hours to get to shows and cries against the stage railing. Festival slots keep getting better. Magazines keep placing her at the top of their “rising star” lists, and many of metal’s best and brightest — from Bring Me the Horizon to Architects — have thrown their support behind her.
After catching fire with her 2024 EP Skin to Skin — released via Atlantic Records imprint Anemoia and featuring the viral hit “Tonight” — Elfeky doubled down with her second EP, 2025’s Surrender, a record of red-blooded feeling that balanced emotional intensity with clarity on tracks like the alt-radio breakout “Will You Love Me When I’m Dead.” It marked a turning point and nudged her up the next rung of rock stardom.
Around the same time, she also appeared on Architects’ The Sky, the Earth & All Between, lending her gossamer vocals to their steel-edged cut “Judgement Day.” It was her first high-profile collaboration — one that bridged heavy and mainstream rock audiences with ease.
When Revolver speaks with Elfeky, she’s just about to head out on her own solo tour, which will immediately be followed by support slots with BMTH — her biggest shows yet. All the while, the question of the debut album lingers in the back of her mind.
Right now, Elfeky has more eyes on her than ever. But the new album still has to answer a quieter question: Who is Amira Elfeky when no one’s watching?
As her star rises in the public sphere, she’s also moving toward a deeper private evolution. It’s a journey she’s been on all her life — from growing up in Connecticut’s hardcore scene and later finding her musical voice in the Bay Area, to speaking openly about living with borderline personality disorder and navigating the industry in L.A. Through it all, she’s been pushing herself toward something like emotional stability.
Now, as she starts to approach it, a different challenge emerges: How to communicate her newly regulated state within heavy metal, a genre famous for its emotional extremes. Elfeky’s new material is less about rupture and more about reckoning, as she asks herself what it means to perform pain once the wounds start to heal. It’s a question she’s been turning over a lot — and one she’s more than ready to talk about.
I imagine there’s a lot of expectation for your debut album. Do you feel a pressure to “say something” with it?
AMIRA ELFEKY Yeah, definitely. When I first started making music, like “Tonight,” everything was from a very raw, emotional perspective. Now I’m writing songs a year before everyone gets to hear them, and what I’m feeling changes throughout that year. I also started co-writing more on the last EP, and I’m still figuring out the things I do and don’t like [about it.]
When you’re co-writing, you’re also incorporating someone else’s perspective into your art, and it can be, like, reflected onto you. With this album, I want to be as honest as possible and think about exactly what it is I want to say — because my manager, and everyone around me, they’re always telling me that you only get one debut album. When you think of an artist, you don’t necessarily think of their EPs, you think of their albums
Are there any guiding principles you have for who you allow into your creative process?
I’ve been at this project for about three years now, so I’m open to people. With rock it can get a little bit tricky, because people tend to write from an emo perspective. That’s what everyone connotes rock with, and I don’t always like to do that. I like to blend a lot of different things into what I’m writing about.
There was a time when I was doing sessions every single day, and nothing came out of it — it just didn’t feel right or authentic. But that wasn’t a waste of time, because along the way you’re figuring out what you like and what you don’t like. I figure that out every time. I just want to have full control over how I articulate things.
You’re simultaneously learning about yourself through these sessions while also having to come up with a coherent statement about who you are with this debut album.
Exactly.
At this point in your life, do you know who you are?
I reflect on myself every year, obsessively, and I’m like, What the fuck was I doing the year before? Like, why were you so dramatic? Now I can look back at some of my songs and feel sad for myself, because I’m like, Wow, I can’t believe I felt that way before. I want to hug that version of myself. Definitively, I think you learn every single day, every single hour, every single year, and that’s just part of the human process of developing.
What does healing look like to you?
I go to therapy, and it’s really important to me because I’m a very sensitive person. I can be quite sensitive to a lot of external noises or confined spaces or certain movies. Some things can freak me out very easily, which is funny, because in my art that’s where I can dabble with that place, because I can compartmentalize. In my personal life, I try to keep everything very light and bright, and my art is the place where I’m able to let go and release all these emotions.
Does being in this industry feel like a very intense version of the healing process?
Yeah, definitely. A lot of my lyrics are about my mental health, or things that I felt in the past. It can be hard because I have a little bit of an issue with being misunderstood. That’s something I’m working on, because people can perceive you however they want. So, it can be a really triggering profession. Someone can always pick something apart.
I think what protects me is separating myself as an artist and myself as a person. Like, talking to you like this — if I got onstage right now, I’d probably have a fucking panic attack. That’s part of why I love makeup, costume, glamour, props — anything that helps me feel like this character version of myself, who is able to live in another world. It’s like a very dramatic version of myself, and it’s very healing to me.
What stage is the album at? Has anything been laid down?
I have the entire concept for the album down and a few songs done. I want it to feel like a world — so that will take time to curate. I’ve already started with the song titles. This is my chance.
People have seen the EPs, which are a little less curated and more like a collection of songs. Now I can create a definitive world that people can relate to, a world they can connect with me. This is the most important part, so I want to take my time and ensure what I’m doing is 100 percent what I love, because I’m going to have to live with it forever.
Does it sound like anything you’ve done before?
In my last two EPs, I was dabbling with different genres, songwriting styles and elements. I think I was experimenting a bit. Now, I feel very confident about the new song we’re creating, which will be released in mid-September. I’m screaming for the first time on this track. I worked on it with Dan Braunstein, who is incredible.
Dan works with some of the most extreme vocalists, like those from Dayseeker, Spiritbox, ERRA and Silent Planet. I was nervous to scream in front of him, but he loved it. I’m excited for people to hear it. I think we’re going to experiment with going a little heavier, but I’ll still have my stripped-back songs, too.
How did you psych yourself up to scream for the first time in the studio?
I’m usually pretty confident in my vocal ability since I’ve been refining it for so long. But I’ve always wanted to try screaming, and it took me a while. I knew I needed to get better at it, just like [how] my clean vocals improve every year. I didn’t want to open my mouth and have a bad sound come out, especially if I wasn’t warmed up. I was a little nervous when I was on the mic, but the adrenaline kicked in. We all thought, Alright, this could actually work.
Had you been practicing your screaming in private?
I had a lesson with the badass Melissa Cross, and she taught me how to scream without hurting my main clean vocals. Protecting them was my biggest concern. She gave me the tools to scream safely, and I’ve been practicing to get better. It’s a whole different challenge to do it live, though.
Has screaming long been a goal for you?
I grew up in Connecticut, which has a big hardcore scene. I used to go to the Webster Underground to see all my friends’ bands play. My best friend, Ian, actually got me into the metal scene in high school. We became friends because I complimented his Disturbed shirt. I was always surrounded by music. I’d go to band practices and road trips with my friends, and they’d be screaming and doing gutturals to bands like Slipknot. I tried to do it, too, but I was terrible at it.
As I got older and listened to bands like Linkin Park and Deftones, I became interested in fry screaming. It was difficult for me at first, because I have a naturally low voice. Now, I’m doing what feels comfortable and trying to get better at other variations of screaming every day, just like with my regular singing.
Is there a new part of yourself, or a new stage in your journey, that you’re revealing on this album?
I’ve spent my whole life trying to feel less anxious, and now that I’m in a better place, I want to write about that experience. I’m also still very inspired by TV, movies and video games. While writing the last EP, I was watching a lot of A24 films and seeing lots of Silent Hill content. I want to continue incorporating that imagination into my music.
Is it challenging to translate this current headspace to your music?
It’s fucking hard. I’ve tried. With my last two EPs, the songs sometimes sounded similar because I was writing about the same handful of experiences. But for this one, I don’t want to just write about “sunshine and rainbows” — even though I’m in a better place, mentally. I still love a darker, edgier aesthetic, so I’m trying to figure out how to do that without sounding weird.
I’m inspired by songs like “Daylily” by Movements, which changed my life when I was 19. It talks about depression, but [it] also finds hope. Since I write poetry first, I’m not good at writing very literal lyrics — they just sound terrible. Instead, I want to try writing positive themes metaphorically. If I can articulate it well, that might be something you hear on this album.
Is your career unfolding how you thought it would? Is it going at a pace you’re comfortable with?
Last year was a bit frustrating, as it was the first full year of my career. This year, everything has really taken off. Now, I feel a little scared — not freaked out, but because everything is happening so quickly. It’s a constant go, go, go, and my brain doesn’t have time to process how unnatural some of this is. I couldn’t be more grateful, though. The music is doing so well, and I’m being offered incredible tours.
It’s also crazy when I go to a show and other bands know who I am and tell me they love my music. I live a secluded life with my family and pets. I don’t mingle much and am often unaware of what’s happening outside my bubble. So, it’s very gratifying and an honor. Like, I went to the Architects’ show in L.A. and saw a lot of other bands. Everyone is so kind and welcoming. It feels surreal to be in the scene and be recognized. And for that, I couldn’t be more grateful.
How did that Architects collab come about?
[Producer] Jordan Fish messaged me when I released my first EP and was working on the second one: “Hey, would you want to be on this Architects song?” I said, “Fuck yeah, I would!” I became completely fixated on it. I was texting my manager, Tyler, who is also my best friend, saying, “Let’s get to the studio! I want to do it now!” He had to remind me we were in the middle of a tour. Being on that song with them was insane. They’re one of the best bands of all time. They really gave me a chance at the very beginning of my career, which was crazy.
You mentioned you were frustrated last year. What was driving that?
I felt stagnant, like I was just bobbing up and down in the water. Things would happen, and then nothing would. I had my first show last March, so I felt very new and honestly didn’t know what I was doing. When I went onstage, I felt so new. This year, I feel confident. I understand my art better and know what I’ll sound like onstage. Nothing feels like a surprise anymore. Last year, I felt I had to use TikTok or be on social media constantly.
This year, I set a boundary. There’s a fine line between excessive use and what’s necessary. Luckily, after releasing Surrender, a stronger fanbase developed. I don’t have to post 45 times a day saying, “Listen to this song.” Now I can just drop music and people care, which is crazy to me. It feels better. It’s less like, “Hi, I’m Amira. Listen to me,” and more like, “Hey, people who love my music, here’s more music.”
At what point did you realize that this year was going to be a lot different?
Things happen in small increments. Tours are usually offered a long time before they’re announced. There are little things like doing one show in Europe, then another, then your headlines, then Architects offer a song, and then Bring Me the Horizon offers a tour. Everything was announced all at once, so it didn’t really click in my head. But once I’m physically there, doing everything, that’s when it hits me: What the hell is happening?
I think the Bring Me the Horizon tour will be especially crazy for me because I’m also doing my own tour. It will probably be a little overwhelming. I’m grateful that [BMTH singer] Oli [Sykes] and everyone in the band are willing to give me a chance. I’m just focusing on that.
Is there a part of you that resists getting bigger out of fear?
It’s funny you say that, because lately I’ve felt a little scared. It’s not that I don’t want to grow, but there’s a subconscious part of me that finds this all so weird. With more attention comes more opinions. Recently, my brain has been focusing on all the negatives, and that’s what’s scaring me. Then I’ll go on YouTube, and 99 percent of the comments are positive, saying things like, “I’ve never felt this way about a song. This hits me in my chest.” Those comments make me cry. When I read them on my phone in my room, I think, Damn, this is all so worth it.
I get overwhelmed easily, which is, again, why I have to separate my art from my life to regulate myself as a person. It is scary, but I tell myself this is what I want. This is my passion and my life. As I continue to grow, I just need to focus on the positive. I probably have a crying session with at least three people I meet at every show. It’s an intimate thing to be a formative part of someone’s life and to connect so deeply. Music saved my life, so the fact that it could be a lifeline for someone else is insane to me.
Are there any parts of your identity that you haven’t brought out yet that you want to in the future?
When I’m on Discord or Twitter, or talking to people in person, I’m 100 percent myself. I’m very much of an open-book person. But ultimately, I want to create a world. And what’s fun for me is living in the world that I created and sharing that. You know, I love romance books and movies because I love to escape. So, creating an over-dramatized version of that is my way of being like: Let me envelop you into my world.
How does that mindset translate to the live shows? You have some huge ones coming up with Bring Me the Horizon.
I was just talking to my booking agent about this at dinner. God willing, I get to a place where I’m able to have huge headlining shows. My manager joked that we’d be fucked with the budget because I’m just gonna want some fancy chandelier and everything crazy and over the top. I think it would be so fun to create a story from front to end. Right now, we’ll have candles and roses, and as much as we can within the limits.
You’ve said your creative and personal growth is ongoing. Five years from now, what do you hope will still be true about who you are and the music you make?
I hope I don’t become harder or resentful. As I said, there can be 99 positive comments and just one negative one, but that’s all you’ll focus on. That’s human nature, and it can ruin a lot of things when you’re new to this. You start thinking: Fuck, I don’t want to do this anymore. Or, What if this is all in vain? Then the spiraling thoughts begin.
I hope I can stay as emotive and unfiltered as I am now, without sanitizing my thoughts or things I want to express. I want to remain raw and vulnerable without fear of someone taking something I’ve said and ripping it apart. I think being vulnerable, raw and very much myself is what got me here. The whole experience feels like being on a roller coaster.