There’s a long-standing notion that suffering can fuel great art, and Garbage’s latest album, Let All That We Imagine Be The Light, gives that trope compelling new weight. Following the turbulence of recent years, including personal hardship and global unrest, the iconic alt-rock outfit returns with one of the most vital and emotionally charged records of their career.
This eighth studio album marks the reunion of all four original members — Shirley Manson, Duke Erikson, Steve Marker, and Butch Vig — who collectively steered the songwriting and production. Recorded across LA’s Red Razor Studio, Vig’s Grunge Is Dead Studio, and even Manson’s bedroom for the haunting closer, this album sees the band move away from the sharper industrial edge of No Gods No Masters and embrace a warmer, melody-driven “grunge pop” sound.
Thematically, Let All That We Imagine Be The Light leans into optimism and vulnerability. While Garbage have always wielded sonic ferocity and lyrical defiance, here they aim for emotional depth. Much of the album was born from Manson’s physical and psychological recovery following hip surgery and a prolonged creative block. “The album is very much about finding love in the world as a tool to combat the hate we feel,” she’s said — and that perspective gives the record a meditative, human core. Mortality, healing, and self-acceptance are recurring themes, explored without pretension.
Opening track “There’s No Future in Optimism” brims with familiar Garbage sonics — distorted guitar fuzz, pulsing bass, and Manson’s fiery vocals — but counters the bleak title with a call to embrace love over despair. “Are you ready for love?” she asks, challenging resignation with resilience.
Then comes the album’s early knockout, “Chinese Fire Horse,” a blistering rebuttal to ageism and doubt. Manson channels pure rage into razor-sharp lyrics aimed at those who’ve suggested she retire — “I’m not done,” she snarls — making it one of the band’s most defiant statements in years.
Classic Garbage energy persists through “Hold,” which explores the strength derived from emotional exposure. These first three tracks alone deliver a potent reminder of the band’s unique alchemy — snarling, melodic, tightly produced, and instantly recognisable.
The mood shifts with “Have We Met (The Void),” a cinematic, brooding track about betrayal and suspicion. It’s sinister and sorrowful, balancing tension with beauty. “Sisyphus” revisits the myth through a deeply personal lens, reflecting on illness and the fear of failure. It’s a dreamy, dramatic moment that lingers long after it ends.
“Radical” is a standout — a spiritual cousin to Garbage’s most emotionally resonant ballads, recalling tracks like “It’s All Over But the Crying.” Here, Manson is at her most reflective, imploring listeners to “Be the light… it’s radical,” anchoring the album’s hopeful core.
Even the oddly titled “Get Out of My Face, AKA Bad Kitty” is a triumph. Beneath the cheeky name lies a fierce anthem of survival and self-belief. The track captures Manson bloodied but unbroken, her voice soaring against crystalline guitars. “If you can’t join them, then you gotta beat them,” she declares — a rallying cry for the defiant.
The album closes with “The Day I Met God,” written and recorded by Manson during her recovery. Her original demo vocals were kept in the final mix, lending the track an aching intimacy. As the Tramadol kicks in, hallucination and revelation blur: “There I was, face to face with God — it was the face of everyone I ever loved.” It’s a breathtaking ending — transcendent, fragile, and quietly euphoric.
Let All That We Imagine Be The Light is unmistakably Garbage: all angular guitars, polished production, and sweeping cinematic soundscapes. But it’s also a deeper, more emotionally generous work. Manson and the band have created something profound — a record about pain, survival, and the beauty that can emerge from broken places. It doesn’t just prove the old saying about suffering and art — it makes it sound like a revelation.
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