Eight Tracks

Some weeks, music is medicine. Other weeks, it’s a mirror, a molotov, or a hiding place. This week’s picks are all of the above — tracks that slap, sting, and sit with you long after the last note. If you’re feeling chaotic, tender, politically frayed or artistically wired, there’s something in here for you. This week’s Eight Track is a genre-defiant parade of real music made by real artists who’d probably ghost your ex just for fun. Emotionally feral, and refreshingly unmarket-tested, There’s no theme, just a mood: sharp edges, soft landings, and a little sonic violence when necessary. Here are tracks that actually deserve your ears. No skips. Let’s get into it.

1. Garbage – “There’s No Future in Optimism”

If you’re looking for bubblegum, you’ve taken a wrong turn — Shirley Manson and co. are here to claw your face off with the truth. “There’s No Future in Optimism” is the sound of someone lighting the last cigarette on Earth with a Molotov. Grimy, defiant, gorgeously pissed off. It throws shade at performative positivity with a nihilistic wink, then cranks the distortion and howls into the void. It’s not a pep talk, it’s a protest. And it’s glorious.

2. Lucy Dacus – “Ankles”

Lucy Dacus could sing her tax return and still make you weep into your gin. “Ankles” is yet another entry in her canon of quietly devastating, hyper-introspective bangers. It’s part therapy session, part confession booth, and entirely perfect. With a voice like she’s reading your diary back to you but kinder, Lucy dissects self-worth, power, and the slow violence of gaslighting — all in under four minutes. It’s like lying on the floor during a breakup and feeling seen.

3. Self Esteem – “Focus Is Power”

Rebecca Lucy Taylor isn’t writing songs, she’s carving commandments into the pop scene’s granite face. “Focus Is Power” is gospel for the godless — all righteous synths, gloriously unhinged choir vibes, and the kind of self-love sermon that makes you want to buy a mirror and shout compliments at yourself until your neighbours call the cops. If this is what a “complicated woman” sounds like, let’s make things very messy. This is pop as self-actualisation, with eyeliner and vengeance.

4. Rachel Chinouriri – “Can We Talk About Isaac?”

Some songs are diary entries. This one’s a side-eye with reverb. “Can We Talk About Isaac?” struts like it’s wearing vintage boots and a grudge. Chinouriri wraps sharp lyrics in deceptively breezy guitar-pop, delivering emotional intelligence with the casual cool of someone who’s cried in the loo at a party and still came back looking better than you. It’s boppy, it’s brutally honest, and it’s got just enough venom to make it danceable without losing its bite.

5. Twat Union – “Don’t Look It in the Eye”

They’ve got the best band name since period cramps and the sound to back it up. “Don’t Look It in the Eye” is a snarling, garage-punk slap to the face of patriarchy, politeness, and other forms of cultural rot. Twat Union’s debut is gloriously unpolished, loud as hell, and smarter than the boys who’ll say “I don’t usually like female-fronted bands.” This isn’t riot grrrl revival — it’s riot grrrl reloaded with teeth, trauma, and terrible boyfriends as fuel.

6. Lambrini Girls – “Company Culture”

Brighton’s finest take down HR-approved hellscapes with a ferocity usually reserved for burning bras and deleting Slack. “Company Culture” is punk with purpose, all snarl and sass and spit-soaked fury. Lambrini Girls don’t want your LinkedIn endorsement — they want to dismantle the whole concept of performance reviews and bury your CEO in the compost bin. It’s cathartic, political, and so fun you might scream along while updating your CV. This is capitalism’s worst nightmare in ripped fishnets.

7. Jane Remover – “JRJRJR”

Jane Remover makes music like your brain at 3AM — chaotic, vulnerable, echoing into the void, and oddly tender. “JRJRJR” sounds like it was recorded inside a haunted hard drive but in a hot way. There’s glitchy anguish, digital static, and enough raw emotion to drown a subreddit. It’s like hyperpop grew up, got therapy, then went on a bender. Jane’s music refuses genre and gender policing with a bored shrug and an emotional landslide. We love her for it.

8. Wet Leg – “Catch These Fists”

Forget the moisturizer (released July 11, 2025)— this is full-contact skincare for the soul. “Catch These Fists” is Wet Leg at their most gloriously unhinged: punchy, petulant, and pulsing with the energy of someone who just found out their ex is dating their cousin. The guitars crash like sarcasm weaponised, and the lyrics are as whip-smart and snark-laced as we’ve come to expect. It’s catchy as hell, messy in all the right ways, and unapologetically ready to start a bar fight with your feelings.