It’s Saturday night, I don’t have the time to sacrifice on preambles as I have two assignments due tomorrow at 11:59 p.m., and a lot of work. I would much rather focus on the music of this review. The songs selected will coat you with a powerful cornucopia of human emotion which spans a few different genres. Each one of these eight songs reviewed has one common thread: an extremely poignant point about the darker side of human nature’s fuckups, with a dash of human reality that brings you back to the forefront of the narrative these song distinguishes.

Natalie Shay, Do You Relate

I did initially say that the music of Natalie Shay is consistently emotive, and I still believe that. Natalie has never been afraid to go to that boundary and even cross over it when it comes to the human condition and emotion in her music. From a psychological point of view, she writes songs that are incredibly relatable, especially in the style of Do You Relate? Every time I hear a Natalie Shay song, I’m struck by how she writes. Her music has this energy to it, it’s bright, bouncy, even happy at times, but when you stop and listen to the lyrics, there’s something deeper underneath. In Do You Relate? the line that always hits me the hardest is:

I’m wanting to just leave it all
I’ve played it, I’ve played it out since I was small
With no one else to break the fall, there’s no one else but you
I’m sure.

I hear that and find myself thinking about how hard it can be to navigate human sentiment and connection. Relatability can be so difficult and sometimes even a little daunting. Finding someone who truly understands you, who just gets you and stands by you, feels like one of the greatest gifts you could ever have. And honestly, I’ve got to point out what might be my favourite line in the whole song:

Wanna fuck it up and celebrate, do you relate?

That right there is everything: raw, real, and captures that messy mix of chaos and joy that defines being human. Natalie Shay doesn’t just sing about emotions; she pulls yours right into her songs.

Natalie Shay, problems.

problems. completely tugs at my heartstrings. It is bravely written to the point that, as I’m editing this right now, my voice is cracking slightly with tears in my eyes. It takes incredible courage to strip away any veil you are wearing and let your entire being shine through. That openness allows you to embrace your humanity and say, “Hello, I’m here. Yes, I’ve messed up. I know I’m not perfect, but this is who I am.”

I have to admit, I love the familiarity. Natalie Shay writes from a place of deep psychological understanding, tapping into the intrinsic motivation within the human self and the foundation of what it means to accept that everyone is different and deserving of understanding just as they are.
If I were to focus on the lyric that impacted me the most, it would be this one:

’Coz I know I’ve got a secret
Something broke inside
Growing up in my house will lead you to find
A plethora of secrets
Just messing with my mind.

To allow that part of yourself to come forward, to expose that kind of vulnerability through songwriting, is truly immense. The best part about this song is that it feels like an anthem for owning who you are, owning your flaws, your struggles, and your truth. It reminds you that your problems are uniquely yours, and with that comes your own resilience to face them head-on.

Maiasaura, 86

86 is a sonic storm, a raw, unfiltered dive into the chaos of self-doubt and the desperate need to escape. The track opens with a relentless pulse, mirroring the frantic heartbeat of someone on the edge.

The lyrics:

You wrote me off just like a poem on a headstone
Another notch that you could carve into your bed post
Turn this up so you can hear me in your headphones
Turns out it’s harder when your target’s got a backbone

Resonate deeply, capturing that haunting feeling of existing while abandoned. It’s a brutal self-reflection, yet there’s a strange comfort in its honesty. The song doesn’t offer solutions; it just lays the struggle bare, making you feel less alone in your own turmoil.

What really strikes me about 86 is how Maiasaura manages to balance that weight with a sound that isn’t just bleak; there’s a pulse of resilience under the surface. The driving beat and sharp edges in the instrumentation push the song forward, almost daring you to confront whatever you’re trying to shut out. Lyrically, it’s a brutal reflection and a warning of not knowing who one is dealing with. The vulnerability here is undeniable. There’s this universal feeling of isolation but also a subtle invitation to break the cycle, to stop the endless running and face whatever lingers below. In a way, 86 offers an optic of both confession and challenge, wrapped in an intense, almost cathartic soundscape. It’s the kind of track that hits you in the underbelly and makes you want to press play again to dig deeper.

Maiasaura, Lately

Lately is a quiet ache, a gentle unraveling of the mind. The minimalist instrumentation allows the vulnerability in the vocals to shine through. The lyrics:

I’m the new anti-hero
New mouthpiece of the people
You ain’t got nothing on me
That’s how I’m feeling lately

encapsulate the essence of the song, a raw admission of confusion and resilience. It’s a track that lingers, echoing in your thoughts long after it ends, reminding you that it’s okay to not have all the answers. Lately is like standing in the eye of a storm, tranquil on the surface but with all this tension and waged war swirling just out of sight. It’s a slow burn that quietly builds, pulling you into this intimate space where vulnerability and frustration sit side by side. The song’s production allows April Rose Gabrielli’s voice to carry the emotional weight without drowning it in noise.

What grabs me about Lately is how relatable it is. It’s that feeling when everything feels off but you can’t quite put your finger on why. The lyrics capture that uncertainty perfectly, the kind of emotional fog that clouds your mind and makes simple things feel like mountains. There’s a haunting line that sticks with me:

I’m grown but I’m not old
My conscience can’t be sold
With crowns come guillotines
That’s how I’m feeling…

It’s raw, honest, and so human. The subtle build-up keeps you hooked, like you’re waiting for some kind of resolution that never quite comes, reflecting the restless, unresolved feelings Maiasaura is exploring. Lately is a reminder that it’s okay to feel lost sometimes, and that those moments, as painful as they are, are part of the process. It’s a quietly powerful track that invites you to sit with your emotions rather than run from them, a tough but necessary kind of bravery.

Maiasaura, Everything Feels Wrong

Everything Feels Wrong is exactly what the title promises, a raw, unflinching look at those moments when life breaks and nothing makes sense. The song carries a weight that’s almost suffocating, but Maiasaura delivers it with a strength that feels both sorrowful and defiant. It’s the kind of track that grabs onto your heart and pulls it out through your throat.

From the opening notes, there’s this anxious energy pulsing through the song, a mix of frustration and desperation. The production matches that feeling perfectly gritty, urgent, but somehow still restrained enough to let the lyrics take centre stage.

When April Rose sings:
Watch me put on make up
Share this with your friends
Then watch a little child be
Beaten half to death,

it cuts deep. It’s a confession that so many of us can relate to, the exhaustion of struggling with inner demons. What hits me the most about this song is its honesty. It’s not polished or pretty, but it doesn’t try to be. Instead, it embraces the messiness of feeling lost and overwhelmed. Everything Feels Wrong is balanced by this underlying current of resilience, a silent promise that even when everything feels wrong, we keep going.

Go back to the news now
Scroll down on your feed
And when you put your phone down
What’d you even see?

Everything Feels Wrong is more than just a song; it’s a reminder that sometimes, feeling gutted is part of being human, and that’s okay.

Maiasaura, Bite the Bullet

Bite the Bullet is edgy honesty and unfiltered emotion. It’s a track about facing the hard truths we often try to avoid, the moments when you know you need to push through the pain, even if it feels unbearable. Maiasaura doesn’t shy away from that reality. Instead, the song feels like a brave, loud declaration that sometimes you just have to buck up and keep going, no matter what.

The sound itself is punchy and relentless, matching the urgency of the lyrics perfectly. There’s a driving rhythm that keeps the momentum going, like a Tell Tale heartbeat one cannot ignore. Lyrically, it’s a mix of defiance and acceptance, wrapped in vulnerability. Lines like:

evoke a sense of urgency and rebellion. It’s a track that dares you to confront your fears and push through the pain, embodying the spirit of resilience and defiance. What I really appreciate about Bite the Bullet is that it doesn’t pretend the struggle is easy or pretty. It owns the adversity, the frustration, the pain, the exhaustion, but it also finds strength in that ownership. There’s a raw power in admitting you’re broken but refusing to be beaten.

Dark and
Cold
A symptom of what
No one knows
Voices screaming

This song feels like an anthem for anyone who’s had to swallow their fear and keep going anyway. It’s real, it’s fierce, and it’s exactly the kind of track that reminds you why music can be such a lifeline in the toughest times.

Malissa Whitehouse, Over a Lifetime

OK, so lyrically and musically, it’s not like The Best of Me by Whitney Houston; however, it has that deep romantic feel of it. It focuses on rejuvenation and oneself in the relational frame of relationships and how to move forward from the heartache. Although this track was written recently, it doesn’t feel recent, it feels like a classic love song and, regardless of what I’ve gone through, I’m going to do the best I can with what I have to pick up all the pieces and put them back together.

I’ve often compared songs to Japanese clay bonding art of kintsugi. This is one of the songs that I would definitely consider to be a vase or a bowl that was at one point broken and shattered into little pieces and bonded with gold. I keep listening to it, and the one thing that comes to my mind is the lyric, I’ve made up my mind. I mean, that says it all right there, I’ve made up my mind, I don’t want to deal with this anymore.

Regardless of what kind of love it was that was situated within the frame of the lyrics, it does house a very powerful message: no excuse, no words, no sorry can make amends… That right there, I think, when we reach a point within our relationship that we’ve just had it and are ready to move on, there comes a point when you just have to pick up the pieces and keep going and just let go of whatever happened, which is sometimes the hardest thing to do. All of that is wrapped up in this track in literally only three minutes and 31 seconds.

Izzy T, Halo

I will be the first person to admit that I love Izzy T. From the moment that I heard Catch Myself, Izzy T has no problem taking deep dives into the grit, dirt, and grossness of humanity within her tracks. The way she does it is just so incredibly, ridiculously powerful because it gives you strong vocals, lyrics, and then tosses in one of the most horrific themes to deal with as a human being as its narrative.

Let’s do a bit of a deep dive into the lyrics. Let’s check out these ones:

Some of us like to bleed for fun, fun.
I’m tearing off my halo, my halo.
I’m on the edge, I swear.

Now, can you imagine yourself as an angel for half a second, maybe a picosecond, something very quick and brief, and imagine taking that halo off your head and ripping it into a million little pieces? It would be just as terrifying as if you had wings and ripped those wings off, feather fragments cut, sliced, ripped, whatever you want to call it.

This one also hits me hard:

How can I be free when your hypocrisy’s too much?
I need to breathe, I’m tearing up my halo.

I mean, I just, I just can’t with these lyrics. Honestly, I just can’t. The way that Izzy T goes at it is just ridiculously high and out, and the power behind the voice for me, it just, yeah, I definitely can’t.