- By Fred Spanner
Garbage: Let All That We Imagine Be the Light ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
A daring, visionary return.
Well, slap on some eyeliner and crank up the volume, Garbage are back with a vengeance. Their eighth studio album, Let All That We Imagine Be the Light, is a glorious, snarling middle finger to apathy, and it absolutely rips.
Shirley Manson, rock’s reigning queen of ice-cold sass, has clearly had enough of everyone’s nonsense. After surviving hip surgeries and watching the world go full bonkers, she’s returned with a battle cry for the misfits, the punks, the old-school ravers, and everyone in between.
The opening track, There’s No Future in Optimism, comes in sharply, as if uninvited, and just what you needed. It’s a punchy manifesto that says, “Yeah, the world’s on fire, but we’ve got glitter and guitars, so let’s dance in the ashes.”
Elsewhere, Chinese Fire Horse brings punk chaos. R U Happy Now and Get Out My Face AKA Bad Kitty are pure snarling fun.
The band’s cooked up some mad scientist-level stuff here with analog synths, weird little Japanese instruments, and a big dollop of cinematic drama. It’s the sonic equivalent of a Bond villain’s lair: moody, luxurious, and a bit dangerous.
Final track The Day That I Met God ends things on a surprisingly tender note with soft synths and philosophical musings.
Garbage aren’t here to please everyone. They’re here to torch the rulebook and look bloody fabulous doing it. This record’s got attitude, style, and enough guts to remind you that rock isn’t dead. It’s just been lurking in the shadows, waiting for Shirley to shout it awake.