MAD @ DAD

Past Me built this playlist with a therapist's precision and a vandal's intent. Forty-one minutes of riot grrrl fury, egg punk chaos, and garage rock distortion—every track a refusal to suppress anything. The curator's note says it all: "Daddy issues, no tissues." This isn't background music. This is weaponized catharsis at running pace, and it hits different when your legs are screaming and your brain's excavating childhood grievances.\n\nWax Jaw's "Boy's Life" opens with jagged guitar and a sneer that sets the emotional temperature. By the time Cat Ridgeway's "Epilogue" bleeds into Amyl and The Sniffers' "Hertz," the genre blend becomes the point. Riot grrrl gave us permission to be angry in public. Egg punk stripped that anger down to pure nerve endings and distortion pedals. Garage rock added gasoline. The cross-pollination works for running because these genres refuse to settle—one minute you're locked into Girl Tones' tight punk propulsion on "Again," the next you're careening through ISTA's "Megawatt" like a poorly wired electrical system. The tempo shifts aren't smooth. They're volatile. That's the design.\n\nMile 3 is where the playlist stops being polite. Sex Mex's "Fucking It Up" is 117 seconds of pure id, all bass and snarl, followed by Super City's "Getouttahere"—which sounds exactly like what your cardiovascular system is telling your brain. By Mile 4, The Pill's "Woman Driver" detonates with that riot grrrl stomp, Kim Shattuck energy filtered through modern garage grime. This is the section where the music becomes louder than the negotiation your legs are trying to stage. Nancy and the Jam Fancys' "Mirror my Melody" arrives like a distorted mantra, repetitive and hypnotic, pulling you through the miles where running stops being fun and starts being spite-fueled.\n\nThen Mile 6 hits and "Isochronism" by Forty Feet Tall kicks in right when the wall starts forming. The guitars are thick, the rhythm relentless, and suddenly you're not running away from anything—you're running through it. SunDog's "Triple Dog" dares you to quit, and Blood Lemon's "Burned" is four-and-a-half minutes of molten distortion that refuses to let your pace drop. Mary Shelley's "Goodnight, Goodbye" closes the set with exhausted defiance, slow-burning and cathartic. The playlist doesn't resolve your issues. It just makes you sweat them out over 41 minutes of pavement, one angry track at a time. No tissues. No apologies. Just you, the road, and a playlist that gets it.