When I hit play on “Prismatic,” I was suddenly seventeen again, sneaking into the kind of club where nobody knows your name, but everybody knows your body. That’s the vibe Mindy Gledhill is giving—late-night, hips loose, heart open, full strobe fantasy.
She’s not new to reinvention. Her early work was sweet, safe, and borderline spiritual. But this? This is grown-woman shit. “Prismatic” is loud, bright, and completely done playing small.
She said it herself—this song’s a flashback to her teen years in Spain, when dancing was the only way she knew how to feel free. “I felt like I could be free and just let go,” she said. “The song is kind of a memoir of that time.” And you can feel that. It doesn’t sound like she’s trying to make a dance track. It sounds like she had to.
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Producer Daniel Tashian raided his closet for this track and found actual boomwhackers, vintage synths, weird percussion that slaps. The groove is tight, but there’s this looseness in her delivery that makes it feel playful.
She opens quietly with “Hiding in between the shadows / Trying not to wake the house.” You know that feeling. You’ve been that girl—quiet, careful, trying not to wake Mom and Dad up. But then she flips it: “Watch me when this ceiling shatters.” And just like that, she’s not hiding anymore.
The chorus goes, “I’m prismatic / Shining like a mirror ball of light.” But it’s not just about glitter—it’s about fragmentation. It’s about breaking down who you were told to be and becoming all the versions of yourself at once. That’s what this track feels like. It’s more than a reinvention.
And Mindy’s earned it. She’s been through the unraveling—her faith, her past, the questions she avoided for years. Rabbit Hole was the first time she cracked that open. But “Prismatic” doesn’t sound like someone processing pain. It sounds like someone who’s already burned it down and is dancing in the ashes.
My favorite line? “You could try and turn the lights out / Go ahead and pull the plug / All the darker, all the brighter I become.” That’s the one I want tattooed. That’s the lyric I want running through my head when I walk into a room with no bra and too much eyeliner.
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It’s sexy without trying to seduce you. It’s confident without begging to be seen. And that is the power of this track. She’s not asking permission. She’s not here for approval. She’s a diamond on the fucking dance
floor and she’s already halfway through the song before you catch up.
“Prismatic” isn’t about escapism. It’s about showing up—louder, shinier, messier. It’s for the girls who left the church, left the bad marriage, left the version of themselves that played nice. It’s for the ones who don’t need to be held, they just need a beat to move to.
So put your hair up, pour something strong, and play it loud. You don’t need a reason. You are the reason.
