Rukmani has never been one to shy away from intimacy. Her voice glides between sweetness and provocation, always pulling you closer. On 3XL (Deluxe), she expands the diary she began with her debut – a project already steeped in desire, loss, and self-possession – and turns it into something fuller, more assured. The deluxe version adds new voices, textures, and moods, yet the album still orbits the same message: intimacy is easy, messy and magnetic.
Rukmani has built a reputation for sharp, distinctive vocals that float over rich Afrobeats rhythms, creating songs that are equal parts sensual and infectious. On 3XL Deluxe, she revisits the themes that define her work – love, lust, and vulnerability – with fresh collaborators who deepen the story. Fantasy with Kaestyle is a slow, honey-dipped duet; their voices fold into each other like smoke. On Heartbeat, Alpha P brings an Afrobeats bounce that makes the song ache and move at once. SGaWD’s cameo on Not Nice injects sharp-tongued defiance – a perfect foil to Rukmani’s soft venom. Together, they turn heartbreak into performance art, their voices trading jabs with lazy precision.
But it’s in her solo work that Rukmani’s power glows brightest. Wet is pure alchemy – she hums, sighs, and stacks her vocals until her voice becomes the beat itself. Illegal Rubs starts playfully before turning dark and sultry, her snarled lines; “Gatorade, perfume / looking like something I should handle from my bedroom” cutting through a heavy bassline. Nude Emotions is the album’s tender center; “Maybe in another life, you would decide to be by my side,” she sings, before confessing, “I got baggages bigger than my thighs.” It’s humorous, vulnerable, and disarmingly human.
Compromise is a blissful exhale – aided by Kemuel’s cool, unhurried delivery, Rukmani presents a duet that feels less like a feature and more like an easy conversation, a balancing act between yearning and self-preservation. It’s a quieter moment that grounds the record’s emotional excess, reminding us that even burning desire can be gentle.
On Tear Us Apart, she raps and sings about sisterhood, weaving melodic declarations of loyalty and love; “no man can tear us apart.” It’s an anthem of solidarity that builds up to Woman Joseph – Club Mix, closing the project on a note of strength, the perfect counterpoint to the record’s exploration of intimacy in all its forms.
Where the original 3XL whispered, the deluxe version breathes. It’s richer, more confident, yet still intimate – music that feels like skin against silk. Opting not to chase spectacle; Rukmani builds worlds that invite you to lose yourself in them. With 3XL (Deluxe), she asserts that sensuality is fun, and that honesty, even whispered, holds power.
