Poppy goes political on her newest album, turning her characteristic defiance outward against ignorance and hate with a retributive edge that demands blood.

She throws us right into the attack with the industrial, drum-laden opener that calls back to 2021’s Flux, “Public Domain,” with the declaration:

“In the horrors of the present tense

Believe only half of what you see

And none of what they said.”

“Bruised Sky” explores despair as catharsis, looking up at the sky and seeing damage even there… yet, intoning, “Don’t try to tell me this is as good as it’s gonna get,” refusing to give up and into the darkness. It’s followed by “Guardian,” which focuses on love as protectorship, as the determination to defend the ones you love, stating that, “When all the gods lose faith, the cities laid to waste / I’ll be your guardian.”

But that’s the softer, more introspective side. “Dying to Forget” channels our fury, reflecting what we’ve been screaming for the past year:

“Stood for nothing, so you fell for everything

I resent the fact that you’re living

…

I’ll end your fucking life.”

And “Empty Hands” is aggressive, brutal, vitriolic metalcore rage that, as a closer, reminds us to hold onto the anger, to keep fighting:

“May it all get worse until your dying day,

You will return with empty hands if you return at all.”

This line makes the album’s title itself a symbol of defiance, an announcement of the impending failure of those who are hurting the world today.

However, Poppy does return to more intimate, interpersonal territory. “Constantly Nowhere” and “Unravel” depict the harsh ups and downs of an abusive relationship, while the emotional core of the album starts with the absolutely devastating “The Wait.” Burdened with a sense of approaching doom, each chorus blasts open like continuous rounds of an existential anxiety attack, with the assertion that “I am who I’ve been my entire life” coming across as an understated, yet powerful conclusion.

“If We’re Following the Light” then dives into more ponderous territory, carried through by a Cure-esque guitar melody and trip-hop accents mired in longing and regret over a former lover—before swelling into a metalcore crescendo, as if the only place it could ever end was in hurt and rage.

But then we progress into a pair of tracks about moving on, with the speaker coming to realize in “Blink” that:

“What I’ve loved the most

I’ve now outgrown

…

It was a blink, and now it’s over.”

The transition into “Ribs” swells with the emotional intensity of a sudden personal revelation, with the song feeling like the kind of flashbang understanding that locks how you feel about someone you once loved into a permanent place. There’s a sense of bittersweet closure, of separation made complete:

“Now I, if I close my eyes, I can feel you

Vanish into blinding light to what I can’t recognize.

Now I splinter and divide, but go on breathing.

Leave me to my own device, time was all I’d need to see it.”

Combined with “If We’re Following the Light” this song is about missing the idealized memory of them, and of saying goodbye to that version, instead of to the person who hurt you.

It might seem odd at first to have a sequence of interpersonal tracks in the middle of an album about political rage, but after a few listens it begins to feel like dealing with personal heartbreak while the world falls apart. It doesn’t act as a commentary, not in that one informs the other or makes it easier or harder to deal with, just that it’s… there. Which would be utterly despairing, if not handled by someone so defiant, so combative, and so supremely talented as Poppy.

Cathartic and inspiring, Empty Hands is necessary.

Photo credit: Boolin Tunes