More than three decades into their career, Garbage still sound like they’re bracing for impact. Their eighth studio album, Let All That We Imagine Be the Light, is an intense, uneasy listen: a record where melody pulses through clenched teeth and rhythm thrums with nervous energy. From the opening seconds, it becomes clear that this isn’t an album made to soothe. It’s dense, mechanical, often abrasive, but never shapeless. And despite its electronic sheen, it bristles with anger, tension, and purpose.
Lead single “There’s No Future in Optimism” sets the tone: the beat is cold and clipped, almost robotic, while Shirley Manson’s voice hovers somewhere between weary and threatening. There’s a dark, propulsive energy reminiscent of early Ultravox, danceable, but hermetic. This combination of synth-driven propulsion and emotional disincarnation recurs throughout the album. “Chinese Fire Horse” marches forward on a mechanical groove, its “la-la-la” refrains sounding less like a chorus and more like a taunt. On “Hold,” the band rides a heavy industrial rhythm, but threads it with a melodic hook that lodges itself in your brain. It’s easy to imagine it becoming a monster onstage, with its sheer force and underlying catchiness.
If the first half of the album is shaped by fury and drive, the middle section reveals a more sinister kind of restraint. “Have We Met (The Void)” opens with baroque synths and slinks into a menacing crawl, its sparse verses punctuated by guitar stabs and a vocal that feels haunted. There’s a slight Cure influence in its gloomy grandeur and quiet menace. “Radical” and “Love to Give” continue in this vein: mid-tempo songs that feel both seductive and suffocating. The beats pulse, but they never quite let go, creating a lingering sense of unresolved tension.
“Sisyphus” offers the closest thing to relief, though even here it’s fleeting. The arrangement is more spacious and akin to dream pop, but the rhythm remains urgent. It’s a brief breath in a record that otherwise tightens like a vice.
There are moments of directness as well. “Get Out My Face (AKA Bad Kitty)” is far more immediate: it's melodic, danceable, and slyly confrontational. It’s no surprise it was picked as the second single, as it offers a clear hook and a slightly playful edge the rest of the record mostly denies. “RU Happy Now” returns to the alt-dance textures of Garbage’s early years, but with the added weight of three decades. Closer “The Day That I Met God” slows everything down again, sinking into a strange and eerie calm. It doesn’t resolve the tension of what came before but lets it dissolve, quietly and without ceremony.
Throughout the album, Garbage sounds like a band with a purpose, keeping any hint of self-indulgence at bay. Even the most accessible moments feel deliberate, measured, and slightly bruised. The production is as meticulous as ever, layering electronics and guitars with a clarity that borders on coldness. Yet at the center of it all, Manson remains incandescent. She sings with a mix of resignation and defiance, embodying a kind of rage that follows the realization of powerlessness.
Let All That We Imagine Be the Light is a dark record, shaped by resignation as much as resistance. There’s very little of the gothic hedonism that marked Garbage’s early years. In its layered electronics, clipped grooves, and emotionally charged vocals, the album recalls the sharp edges of early ’80s new wave. Not the glamour, but the disillusionment. It might be an unlikely companion to Sparks’ recent MAD! , another record by veterans with nothing to prove and everything to express.
This isn’t music for comfort, but it’s not devoid of beauty. Beneath the armor, the melodies still shine through, and in moments, they flicker with something close to hope, or at least persistence. It’s a fierce, finely made record, and one that resonates deeply in the moment we’re in.
Release date: May 30th, 2025
Produced by: Garbage & Billy Bush
Label: BMG
Rating: 7/10
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