Let All That We Imagine Be The Light is not Garbage reinventing themselves – but rather doubling down on what has always made them compelling: dark glamour, sharp hooks, and that uneasy blend of grit and polish.
There is something oddly comforting about Garbage still being here, still making music that feels both instantly recognisable and always a little new(ish). Their new album broods, snarls, and occasionally sighs, but never once drifts into autopilot. There’s always that risk of leaning into the worldwide love of nostalgia we all seem to be drawn to currently – but mercifully, this album manages to skirt it.
Shirley Manson remains the gravitational pull she always has been, and shows why she’s been such an influence on newer rock artists. Her delivery is smoky, biting, and more than a little sardonic. She doesn’t so much sing these songs as embody them, moving between weariness and venom in a way that still feels magnetic after all these years. Her presence alone makes you sit up straighter, even when the arrangements lean more towards slow-burn atmospherics than big, jagged anthems.
Musically, the record is classic Garbage territory. Industrial edges rub up against glossy production, electronics hum under gritty guitars, and the rhythm section keeps everything taut. It is moody and cinematic, with a sleekness that risks sounding sterile in the hands of a lesser band, but here feels like part of the design. It’s slick, but it still has teeth. It would be hard or impossible for a lesser band to pull off.
There are of course a few standout tracks that show the duality of the band at its best. Little Doll is immediate, its chorus lodged in your head after a single play, all swagger and menace wrapped in a shiny package. In contrast, Send Me An Angel slows the tempo and sinks into something more haunted, with Shirley delivering one of her most affecting vocal performances in years, showing some tenderness and vulnerability. Between the two, you get the sense of how broad Garbage’s palette can be without ever losing cohesion.
Lyrically, the album leans heavily into reflection, alienation, and persistence. There’s anger here, but it’s tempered by perspective. Rather than youthful fury, this is the sound of a band who have seen enough to know where the bruises are, and how to press on them with precision. The writing is sharp, layered, and often slyly humorous in that way only Shirley can pull off – and unfortunately the years of misogyny and scrutiny she’s faced over her years fronting Garbage.
Production-wise, it is dense but never suffocating. Each element sits in its place, whether it is a distorted guitar snarling at the edges or a synth line pulsing like a nervous heartbeat. There is always a sense of texture, something rough against something smooth. And while the sound is undeniably modern – it hasn’t dragged in recent pop trends just in some vain effort to stay relevant. You don’t need to when you set the trends.
If there is a fault, it is that the record can feel a little front-loaded. The opening tracks land hard, but some of the later cuts blur into each other on first listen. They are strong in isolation, but you may find yourself waiting for the next big hook to arrive. Still, this is less about filler and more about mood. The back half works better as a continuous piece rather than a playlist of singles, not that you’ll need to worry about gapless playback!
Ultimately, Let All That We Imagine Be The Light proves Garbage are still vital, still relevant, and still impossible to pigeonhole. It’s not a nostalgia act, not a greatest-hits retread, but a band continuing to refine and push at their own boundaries.
By the time the final track fades, you are left not so much exhilarated as enveloped pulled into their world for just under an hour and then set free again, a little unsettled but thoroughly impressed.
Author: Tom, Cardiff Store
