Today, March 8, marks the 113th International Women’s Day.
It’s important to celebrate the wins, the political and social gains that we have made over the decades. But there are so many daily offences that women and gender-diverse people are still required to bear: rampant misogyny on social media; AI technology facilitating the creation of deepfake revenge porn; the persisting gender pay gap; the intensification of intimate partner violence throughout the pandemic; new legislation that criminalizes abortions and repeals reproductive rights in the U.S.; limited access to abortion in Canada; everyday harassment. And this isn’t an exhaustive list.
Sometimes, you just need to rage-out about the overwhelming injustices that persist. We hope this playlist is cathartic for you.
‘You Oughta Know,’ Alanis Morissette
“You Oughta Know” was the rage anthem for a generation when it was released in 1995, a four-minute, take-no-prisoners attack directed at an ex who really deserved it. It would be a mistake, though, to read “You Oughta Know” solely as a ball of anger. “When I hear that song, I definitely hear the anger as a protection around the searing vulnerability,” Alanis Morissette told the New York Times. “It was a lot easier for me to be angry and feel the power from that anger versus the broken, horrified woman on the floor.” You can hear that juxtaposition in the recording: with vocals straight from the original demo, “You Oughta Know” is a fiery, unapologetic, open wound of a song — and scream-singing it is still cathartic in so many situations, nearly 30 years later. — Holly Gordon
‘Mutual Friend,’ Jessie Reyez
Rage doesn’t always translate on ballads, but in the case of Jessie Reyez’s “Mutual Friend,” a sweeping song with a melancholy melody is the perfect medium to deliver cutting lyricism. “If you died tomorrow, I don’t think I’d cry,” begins the vengeful chorus. It’s an icy yet calm rage, the kind that comes from being fooled one too many times. Reyez wields her anger like a weapon, summing up how it feels to be so done with someone that they are no longer worth an ounce of her anger. On the bridge, she twists the dagger: “Yeah, our mutual friend/ asked me how I sleep with so much hate in my heart/ I told them I sleep like a baby.” — Natalie Harmsen
‘Hiss,’ Megan Thee Stallion
Over the past few years, Houston rapper Megan Thee Stallion has been subjected to an unwarranted amount of criticism, so it’s no surprise that she wants to pull the first punch on her latest single, “Hiss.” “I just wanna kick this shit off by saying f–k y’all/ I ain’t gotta clear my name on a motherf–king thing,” she spits before the beat even comes in. Her fury spills out in an exacting flow and her razor-sharp wordplay cuts deep into her detractors — those who claim she fell off, those who argue she’s never been a star to begin with and worst of all, those who want to relentlessly retraumatize her for an assault she endured. But Megan stands tall and confident on this track, laughing at those “using my name for likes and views,” knowing that she can turn the tables and use other people’s negativity and spin it into a win, which in this case meant “Hiss” debuting at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100. — Melody Lau
‘Not Ready to Make Nice,’ the Chicks
I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and I don’t have time
To go ’round and ’round and ’round
In 2003, just before the U.S. invasion of Iraq, Natalie Maines of the Chicks criticized President George W. Bush, telling a crowd while onstage in London that “We do not want this war, this violence, and we’re ashamed that the president of the United States is from Texas.” The backlash was swift: radio stations across America pulled their songs or banned them outright, columnists referred to them as traitors, they even received death threats. And in turn, the harrowing experience inspired one their most popular and enduring songs. Women are often punished for getting political, but instead of shrinking in the face of that adversity, the band came back three years later with a new album, Taking the Long Way, and the single “I’m Not Ready to Make Nice,” which turned them into even more of a firebrand. The song starts as a downtempo country ballad but as soon as the chorus hits, it transcends into an exclamation of resentment, rage and defiance. Their anger at having their freedom of speech challenged is dripping from every line and by the end of the track, it’s clear they have no plans to cower or bow to the powers that be. — Kelsey Adams
‘SRTY,’ the Sorority
It means what it means if I ever tell a man no
We be the queens and I ain’t talkin’ ’bout a man’s show
And I ain’t talking about the little city
I’m talking ’bout crowns on heads and sitting pretty
I’m talkin’ power, money, education
Wealth through health and literally the birth of a nation (uh huh)
So tell me why you can’t respect that?
You tell us eat because we skinny, and stop eatin’ when we’re too fat
We’re never good enough, hood enough, light enough
Always trying to dim us ’cause some dimwit just ain’t bright enough
The Sorority’s legacy lives on in the vibrant solo careers of its four members — Haviah Mighty, Lex Leosis, pHoenix Pagliacci and Keysha Freshh — but also in the fire and fury of their remarkable debut album, The Pledge. The group itself was short-lived but six years later, its manifesto of a single, “SRTY,” still bumps and burns with verse after verse of powerful and provocative lines calling out sexism, racism, and inequality. — Andrea Warner
‘Racist, Sexist Boy,’ the Linda Lindas
Get ready to rage with this spirited anthem by Los Angeles outfit the Linda Lindas. Punk-infused “Racist, Sexist Boy” doesn’t let its subject off the hook for being, well, racist and sexist. The band members, who are still teenagers, use energetic guitar riffs and commanding vocals to amplify their candid lyrics. Descendents of the Riot Grrrl movement, the Linda Lindas empower the younger generation to call out hateful rhetoric, and challenge bias (“You close your mind to things you don’t like”) while also delivering a few low blows (“Poser, riffraff, jerkface, hater.”) Sometimes you just have to communicate in a way that your adversary will understand. — Vanessa Conley
‘Ice Cream Man,’ Raye
Since its release in 2023, women everywhere have had visceral reactions to Raye’s song “Ice Cream Man.” They cry because her story of life after sexual assault is all too familiar. They’ve lived it, or know someone who has, and it hurts. In this courageous song, she opens up about the most personal experiences of her life, hinting at multiple encounters with men in powerful positions who betrayed her trust and violated her body. She revisits the self-destructive impact of living with bottled-up trauma and shame and confesses, “It took a while to understand what my consent means” — the most valuable currency a young woman possesses. This haunting song serves as a reminder to her and every woman out there that we all have it within us to be “very f–king brave, strong” women who never let men ruin how we walk, talk and do it. — Jasmine Denham
‘Face Up and Sing,’ Ani DiFranco
Ani DiFranco is a trailblazer, not only for women, but the entire 2SLGBTQ+ community. Almost 30 years ago, she released “Face Up and Sing” on her own label, Righteous Babe Records, and produced it herself — something that simply didn’t happen back then. She became a lighthouse beacon for a different way to move through the world; she said things out loud that so many women only thought about in the dark. Her lyrics became a companion and kept so many women company for years and years until the #MeToo movement happened and many more women finally felt free to “face up and sing.” — Damhnait Doyle
‘G.U.Y.,’ Lady Gaga
Lady Gaga embodies subversion across her projects, and especially on “G.U.Y.,” the third single off her 2013 album, Artpop. The EDM-forward pop track is provocative and gritty, with gender-bending lyrics that land historically disempowered groups in the position to control. “I’m gonna wear the tie/ want the power to leave you/ I’m aimin’ for full control of this love.” Gaga’s commanding vocals as she repeats “I want to be that G.U.Y.,” an acronym for Girl Under You, demands an upheaval of the repressive sexual politics that have dominated public and private spaces for far too long. With a surge of personal power, Gaga encourages fellow survivors to reclaim their agency; to show up in the world and be that guy. — Ashley Catania
‘Venom,’ Little Simz
Often, rage is an overt form of expression, but London rapper Little Simz’s “Venom” is more of an insular rage spiral. The bars spill out of her at rapid-fire pace, like free-verse poetry, as she lists all the ways she’s been undermined and overlooked. She has venom for all those who counted her out (“They will never wanna admit I’m the best here/ From the mere fact that I’ve got ovaries”), but the venom is also a metaphor for the way the weight of pain and trauma can corrupt your mind (“Rage, nothin’ but rage/ Can’t figure out if I’m goin’ insane”). — KA
‘BWBB,’ Softcult
Another group inspired by Riot Grrrl, Kitchener, Ont., rockers Softcult have made it their mission to use their music as a space to shed light on misogyny, sexual assault and the many ways people abuse power — all of which are as prominent today as they were when Kathleen Hanna, Allison Wolfe and more were singing about it in the ’90s. Fuelled by unabashedly loud guitars and pounding drums, “BWBB” rips an age-old adage (“boys will be boys”) to shreds. It’s a saying that’s been used to excuse and justify abusive behaviour for far too long, and on this fired-up anthem, Phoenix and Mercedes Arn-Horn make it clear that, “these ‘boys’ ain’t shit/ and these girls shouldn’t have to put up with it.” — ML
‘I Owe You Nothing,’ Seinabo Sey
“Smile.” Women walking through the world have heard this demand many times. It’s just one of the many expectations placed on women, the way we look, act and live. And that request to “smile” is an indication that rage is definitely not an acceptable emotion. But it’s what powers Swedish singer Seinabo Sey’s “I Owe You Nothing.” Delivered with ferocity and bite, she speaks on behalf of all women when she places the oppressive expectations women are forced to bear in the cross hairs and defiantly sings, “I don’t have to smile for you/ I don’t have to move for you,” taking things a step further in the chorus: “I owe you nothing.” — Angeline Tetteh-Wayoe
‘I’m Not Going to Kill You,’ Nemahsis
Expressing anger in a ballad may be counterintuitive but Nemahsis’s “I’m Not Going to Kill You” perfectly illustrates the quiet exasperation of constantly being at the receiving end of Islamophobia. Nemahsis, a Palestinian Muslim woman who wears a hijab, illustrates the ways she could appease the white gaze, such as changing her name (“You like me better as an Emma/ I would have gained your trust sooner with that name”) or hiding her hijab (“You feel less threatened with my hood up”) — all of which strip away her identity for the comfort of others. The song weaves beautiful melodies with unapologetic lyrics: “Can’t you tell I’m fed up lately/ and don’t call me crazy/ I don’t want no judgment anymore.” Her frustration is palpable, and deservedly so, as she looks at harsh truths about the human experience. — VC
‘Sad Femme Club,’ Kimmortal
There is so much to be furious about today that it’s incredible we’re not all walking around, screaming at the sky. But as Vancouver hip-hop artist Kimmortal asked in their 2017 hit “Sad Femme Club”: “If I lose my shit right now, will I just be dismissed right now?” Women and gender-diverse folks are so often chastised for how they express their anger, but “Sad Femme Club” is a place to exorcise those tone police and be welcomed for who you are. And it resonated widely: U.S. Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez posted a video to Instagram in March 2022 of her singing to Kimmortal’s track. “My anthem this week for watching one of the most qualified SCOTUS nominees in U.S. history [Ketanji Brown Jackson] be treated with extra disrespect as a Black woman,” she explained. Ocasio-Cortez’s video ended fittingly, singing Kimmortal’s affirming words: “Welcome to the Sad Femme Club, baby! You are enough.” — HG
‘Howler,’ Sate
Toronto’s Sate is known for big, bold rock with gritty riffs and wild vocals and “Howler,” off her 2021 album The Fool, does not disappoint. Pummeling electric guitar, bass and drums welcome listeners into this track, all about bodily autonomy and eschewing gender expectations. Whether it’s being told not to frown or to stay silent to maintain the facade of the perfect, uncomplicated and docile woman, Sate has no interest in playing the game. On her website she wrote that the song is “An ode to the women who run with the wolves… with a massive dose of no f–ks given, it’s a call to action to take no shit from anyone attempting (in any way) to rule over our bodies and our souls.” — KA
Explore even more songs in the playlist below:
