Juliana Hatfield is in for nothing short of a gory time on her newest album, Blood. Even the cover, a drawn woman diving with her arms splayed wide as blood spews from her butchered elbows, shows how the veteran rocker took this theme and ran with it. Where 2017’s Pussycat hurled criticism directly at the despicable behavior of Donald Trump in the presence of women, the newest explores, simply, anything she felt could relate to blood.

“The Shame of Love,” helps the album open on a lighter note, with staticky and grinding guitars. The song depicts the cycle of returning to a relationship, one that probably didn’t work for a reason. “I crash another new car/ You gather me up/ Feel where I’m broken/ Put pressure on those parts,” she sings in one of the particularly creative lyrics on the album.

Hatfield is credited with the majority of the work put into the project. From the keyboards and drumming to all the guitars, she sang, wrote, produced and played on every track. This personal touch is evident on tracks like “Nightmary,” written as one long verse, where she criticizes world leaders and the capitalist mindset to consume until there isn’t anything left.

“The whole world is controlled by fascist blood-sucking thugs,” she sings on one of the most political statements on the album. It will stick with you through to the end.

Her social commentary continues on “Had a Dream,” where the uniquely American phrase is skewered into another increasingly American context: mass shootings. “Bloody and unbelieving/ That anyone would ever punish you/ For all of the traitorous things that you do,” she sings over snappy guitar playing after describing repeatedly stabbing someone who deserved it, perhaps one of those backed by groups like the NRA. “It was a very American dream.”

Ugh.

In moments like these, the album feels highly reflective of Hatfield’s age and race, and fortunately, in a good way. There’s nothing problematic or out-of-line. In fact, she appears to be in step with progressive politics, an older voice that emulates an accumulated frustration at the status quo. This also helps the album—which is sonically not aligned with what dominates mainstream music in 2021—become more cross-generational and relevant. There’s nothing a Karen would say here, thank goodness.

There’s a string of particularly gruesome names during the second portion of the work. However, during these, it becomes more obvious that, though the songs are shrouded in the carnage, they are really about trying to be a nice and caring person in an increasingly tense and violent world. “Suck it Up” isn’t about vampires or cannibals but about artists, struggling to find a place that fits a traditional, digestible model without stifling their independence and voice. “Mouthful of Blood” has a softer beat to help drive the song where Hatfield describes biting her tongue so much that open wounds now spill blood from her lips.

“Dead Weight” features deeply personal depictions of depression and self-loathing in its poetic and unstructured lyrics. “All I ever wanted was to revel in the loneliness/ Find a private place to sit and tear off my skin in peace,” she sings. But on “Chunks” her bloody fantasies come to life once again. “Someone’s gonna kick you in the head/ Someone’s gonna choke you out/ Someone’s gonna burn down your house,” she sings, her voice at times distorted and almost unintelligible paired with her electric guitar. It sounds awful but she’s still just asking simple questions: Why can’t people be nice? Why do mean people never seem to be held accountable?

Blood concludes with “Torture,” the most miserable of titles but one of the more mellow and affectionate tracks. Hatfield describes the pain of a relationship that isn’t working and how it could be repaired. “Don’t lie/ Don’t sugarcoat it/ Just give it to me straight,” she sings.

Basically, that’s how she approached the album: honestly and passionately.

Follow Domenic Strazzabosco at Twitter.com/domenicstrazz and Instagram.com/domenicstrazz.