Observant listeners will recognize that title from a 2013 EP of the same name. That one came as a pre-order bonus for Emika's second album, Dva, and comprised three piano instrumentals called "Dílo." The new album gives us "Dílo"s four through 16, recorded at Emika's childhood home in Milton Keynes on the piano that she grew up with. It's inspired equally by Czech composer Leoš Janáček and her feelings about returning to the comfort of her family, which lends a certain innocence to the compositions. A virtuoso she's not, but the point isn't to dazzle you with her quick fingers. Emika lays bare her icy, minor-key sensibility on the ivories, and in doing so shows what made tracks like "Pretend" and "Double Edge" stand out. As she moves from one composition to the next, her songs remain engaging, even if solo piano experiments aren't your thing.
Of course, Emika can't leave sounds untouched. Klavirni is peppered with little bits of manipulation. Sometimes the sounds catch and stutter, sometimes the melodies are remolded into shinier, synth-like sounds. But at its heart, Klavirni is still an album of piano recordings from an artist otherwise associated with dance music, and so it's destined to be a niche effort for a niche audience. Still, there's something attractively contemplative about it. In a 2011 feature, Emika said being alone at her piano allowed her to tap into "a very stable place of solitude within [herself]," the kind of thing other people seek in yoga or meditation. That feeling of peace, solitude and fulfillment is what makes Klavirni a record worth owning.