Change the Locks

The closing track arrives with aggressive, crunchy guitar riffs and a driving rhythm section that pushes the tempo higher than anything preceding it, channeling genuine anger into a wall of distorted sound. The drums are punchy and relentless, the bass thick and growling, while King Princess layers her vocals with a snarling edge that borders on punk ferocity. This is a song about reclaiming autonomy — the decisive, sometimes violent act of cutting someone out completely, not just emotionally but practically, symbolically, changing every point of access they once had. The energy is cathartic and forward-moving, less about grief than about the fierce satisfaction of self-protection. Production-wise, it draws from early 2000s garage rock and riot grrrl traditions, all buzzing amplifiers and vocals mixed hot enough to clip. There are dynamic drops where everything cuts to just voice and a single guitar, creating breath before the next wave crashes in. This is music for the moment after the sadness, when hurt transmutes into action — for cleaning out closets, for deleting contacts, for the physical act of changing locks and finding power in the finality. It captures what so few breakup songs do: not the loss, but the reclamation.