Horses

"Horses" carries a physical momentum that most of Brodka's catalog deliberately withholds. From the opening, there is a forward drive — the rhythm insistent, the guitars carrying a bristling, almost feral energy — and the production pushes into your chest rather than wrapping around you. It has the quality of something unleashed: controlled enough to remain a song, wild enough to feel genuinely uncontained. Brodka's voice rises to meet the arrangement rather than floating above it, and the result is something unusually unguarded for an artist who tends toward control as an aesthetic. The imagery of horses is not decorative here — it is structural, the song embodying the thing it describes: power that is beautiful precisely because it cannot be fully directed. There is joy in it, but not uncomplicated joy; there is also an awareness of cost, of what speed and freedom require you to leave behind. The song feels connected to a tradition of women claiming animal imagery as a counter to domestication, from Patti Smith onward, though Brodka's version is more electronic and more contemporary in its textures. You reach for this while running, or driving fast on an empty road, or in any moment when the body wants to exceed what the mind is planning.