Who is MUNA? The queer band of our dreams. Self-proclaimed creators of “sad soft pop songs for sissies angry girls emo queers and crybabies.” The iconic trio is back with their third record to whip us into a dance-pop frenzy.

Hot on the heels of viral hit ‘Silk Chiffon’ featuring Phoebe Bridgers, MUNA shared a succession of equally impressive and punchy tracks in anticipation of MUNA’s release. But more on that later - first up, we’re revisiting the world of mini skirts, rollerblades, and sapphic love on the aforementioned ‘Silk Chiffon’.

The club anthems are coming thick and fast on MUNA 3. ‘What I Want’, punctuated with dancy synth, is an ode to reliving one’s youth as an out, proud, and unapologetically sexy adult. MUNA wants to “dance in the middle of a gay bar” - I mean, don’t we all? This track certainly evokes images of neon lighting, sticky floors and sweaty bodies. Sign me up.

Still on the upbeat trajectory, ‘Runner’s High’ represents a slight foray into hyperpop. Synth is of course MUNA’s language (we heard lots of it across their predecessor albums), and the first half of the song builds up to the track’s undulating, EDM-flecked underbelly. MUNA does a great job of juxtaposing high-octane pop instrumentation with serious and reflective lyricism, so you can dance and feel things at the same time (catharsis at its finest).

‘Home By Now’ is a post-break up anthem for the ages. It deals with the ‘what ifs’ of a failed relationship, the rumination after walking away from something that isn’t right for you but still wondering if things could have been different. Sonically, this track reminds me a little of ‘I Know A Place’ - in fact, there are a lot of motifs across MUNA that call back to the band’s earlier work.

Conversely, ‘Kind Of Girl’ introduces us to a new side of MUNA. Described by lead singer Katie Gavin as the album’s country moment - and “the heart of the record” - this acoustic-led ballad is all about practicing, or attempting to practice, self love and healing, which is an important message that permeates throughout much of the band’s repertoire.

Though not a stand out track, ‘Handle Me’ is a sensual and chilled-out comedown. Gavin asks her lover to be less delicate, because she is “rough around the edge” and “not a flower petal”. For me, this track acts as a reminder that women aren’t fragile objects to be handled with care. We’re strong, powerful, capable beings - and it’s okay to treat us as such.

Now, I found out that none other than Mitski lended her hand to ‘No Idea’, the album’s horniest track, as I was writing this. A jaw dropping moment. Crossover of the century. Not only are the lyrics oozing with sex appeal (thank you, Mitski), the production is equally as charged. There’s a whispered “you have no idea” in the bridge that encapsulates the essence of this lust song, and I already know that this number will be lapped up by MUNA fans.

The bops are unrelenting, and I’m convinced that MUNA was possessed by the spirit of Prince on ‘Solid’. It’s giving funk, prog-rock, 80s exuberance. With anthemic backing vocals and thumping, catchy beat, ‘Solid’ is essentially a love letter to a woman - be it a lover, a friend, yourself. She’s whoever you want her to be, and “she’s so solid”.

Quick, fetch your cowboy hats because we’re back on our horses! High horses, or regular sized, you ask? That’s MUNA’s discretion. ‘Anything But Me’ is another post break-up track, but this time it’s a good riddance to someone who is holding you back, but wishing them well either way. It’s a really interesting perspective, and of course, is complemented by energetic and nuanced production.

The final two tracks are more subdued, but certainly no less powerful. ‘Loose Garment’ explores elements of love, loss, and heartbreak, airy vocals crooning over gorgeous strings about the importance of letting emotion wash over you rather than wearing “sadness like a choker”.

And of course, it wouldn’t be a MUNA album without at least one song to cry to in the interval between dancing and screaming along to the boppier tracks. ‘Shooting Star’ is a lamentful track about wanting to be with someone, but loving them from afar so as to protect the both of you. Though not outwardly sad, it’s a complex experience, emboldened by more country-esque production.

MUNA is a band who knows who they are. They have and will always continue to carve out their own space, be their own voice, and never pigeonhole their sound. They’ve amassed a cult following, pack out music venues, and with each new album are creating a soundtrack for queer youths to experience their firsts to. That’s pretty iconic.