This is like a brilliantly lit mashup of Missy Elliot’s “Work It” and Awkwafina’s “My Vag.” Miss Eaves is out here asking the hard questions—to wax, or not to wax? I appreciate her conclusion, too, and to paraphrase it in more Satanic terms: do what thou wilt with thine own bush.

Miss Eaves asks the important questions — what should you do with the hair down there? Trim, wax, shave or even use Nair?

It feels like a songwriter growing into the task, and starting to understand the breadth of their talent, Guts Club have simply never sounded better.

Lindsey Baker, who fronts the band, is a Philadelphia-raised artist living in New Orleans by way of Brooklyn who understands the nuanced stupidity of the human brain about as well as one could. Her forthcoming album, Trench Foot, is all about it.

There are a slew of descriptions that typically get attached to songwriters who sing quiet songs with sad subject matter—like “stirring folk noir” or “delicate acoustic emo”—but Clint Asay, the New York musician who performs as Clint Michigan, cuts right to the chase. He calls his genre “trauma folk.”

I hope that you’ll trust me when I say there is little else out there quite like the razor-direct intensity of Baker’s lyricism in Guts Club.

Folk-pop that feels both winsome and weighty at the same time. Feather light but connected to the earth and the struggles that so many of us face in our lives.

The song itself, which hinges on the fear of baring one’s physical body to another person, is a personal one for Asay, who, in press materials for ‘Centuries,’ reveals that the album grapples with his real-life struggles, including “[his] body, living with HIV, [his] childhood.”

The music she makes is almost invariably slow, loud, and sad, but it’s multidimensional too; she once made the distinction that a song wasn’t about pain, but, borrowing a turn of phrase from a French dominatrix, said it was “about how to suffer beautifully, like Saint Sebastian.”

Set in a hot pink room and filmed through a grainy VHS filter, Teenage Cavegirl play through their single as the camera bops around the room getting every possible angle of the band. Clocking in at 1 minute and 54 seconds, the vibrant energy coupled with the relatable subject matter will have you replaying this track many times.