There’s an ‘every cloud…’ aspect to Let All That We Imagine Be the Light – Shirley Manson’s long, painful rehab post-shattered hip buying Butch Vig, Duke Erikson and Steve Marker time to gift her the inspiring sonics that sparked Garbage’s eighth album.
Part ominous, expletive-strewn songs of confrontation, part vulnerable hymn of acceptance, it finds Manson berating a moth-to-flame fool calling for her retirement (‘Chinese Fire Horse’) and weathering an ‘other woman’ showdown in Barcelona (‘Have We Met (The Void)’).
Elsewhere, something-amiss-in-toy-town keys, scabrous synth-bass and a Nirvana-ish use of wildcard chords deepen the unease, but we get bouquets as well as barbed-wire.

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