Ever had a panic attack so intense you achieved ego death? Ever tripped so hard you saw God? If not, you can approximate either experience by catching a Hot Garbage show or just throwing on the band’s latest single, “Wewu.”  

With an album set to release this year and a second single on the way, Hot Garbage is back. (Although they never really left.) I was lucky enough to chat with the band’s sibling duo, Alex and Juliana Carlevaris, before their first show back in Toronto. We touched on everything from David Lynch to late-stage capitalism, but with the band having been in the studio for God knows how long, I’d be remiss not to ask about recording. On “Wewu,” they’ve distilled the frenzied, intangible energy of a house show into a 4-minute-long single. This is no coincidence—a love of performing bleeds into every facet of Hot Garbage’s ethos, down to their off the floor recording style. 

“We’re of the philosophy that an album should sound like a performance. You want to hear the synergy and the natural things that happen when people are playing together.”

Despite its intensity, Hot Garbage’s sound also begets a certain intimacy. Whether you opt for the lush tones of their earlier work or the grunginess of their recent releases, each song is more akin to a liminal space than a listening experience. Distortion and abrasive instrumentation dissolve the boundary between band and listener, creating a sonic hellscape that is as immersive as it is haunting. The focus on atmospheric worldbuilding comes as no surprise for a band that counts Dario Argento’s Suspiria, Harmony Korinne’s Spring Breakers, and Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner among their main creative influences. You probably wouldn’t watch any of these movies on a first date, and you probably wouldn’t throw Hot Garbage on at a house party. The band knows their music isn’t exactly baby shower material. I mean, “Wewu” sounds like a nightmare you never want to wake up from. The band’s smoggy delirium is simultaneously arresting and disconcerting; it’s a musical trainwreck, and I don’t want to look away. But the discomfort is what makes Hot Garbage so compelling—their music demands that you sit with the weird, messy parts of yourself. After all, why shy away from the ghost in the machine when you can befriend him? 

“We like going into that space and reflecting the things that people are feeling in the world. Some artists make a nice sounding reprieve from the dark things that are happening, but we like embracing it. […] It’s about celebrating being afraid, which is a feeling that we all feel but don’t really acknowledge.”

For something so reminiscent of the undead, Hot Garbage is no doubt a living, breathing project. From their posters to their music videos, the band is a labour of love. The music video for “Snooze You Lose” features fellow Toronto art-rockers Kali Horse, who often lend a hand with the band’s visuals. Armed with a plastic camera, colored lenses, and cardboard instruments, the bands filmed the video over the course of a day. Alex puts it plainly when he says that their creative process is often a matter of recording a music video “without any money at all.”

While Hot Garbage’s scrappiness is surely part of their appeal, they recognize that the world doesn’t exactly reward local musicians. It’s the creative’s conundrum: you work a shitty part-time job so you can afford to live where the gigs are. Sure enough, your shitty part-time job leaves you without the time or energy to play the music you set out to play. Alex and Juliana are no strangers to the slog of it all, but their two-pronged approach—make cool shit and have fun—serves as an antidote to neoliberal drudgery. 

“It’s infuriating when the commodification of art leads to challenges within the process of creating it. It’s like, ‘Hey, I’m trying to do something here.’ This isn’t like an exercise in hoarding money or whatever.”

The make cool shit and have fun approach was born when the band had to write their last two albums during COVID lockdown. The isolation renewed their appreciation for recording together, and they’re confident that the group’s collective vision will come across in their upcoming album. Hot Garbage harbours a near-religious devotion to recording—they capture the subtle textures of a live performance with every bit of acoustic feedback or barely-there vocals. But their hypnotic sound is also the product of a jam session between friends. It’s hard to imagine making music this energetically charged without having a little fun, and Alex and Juliana say as much.

“[The isolation] was a reminder to have fun. We got to do this thing, and once it stopped, we were like, ‘That was all just really fun, and if we get the chance to do this again, we’re gonna remember to enjoy it all.’ ”

We could all stand to enjoy the journey a bit more. We value product over process, but Hot Garbage reminds us that the doing is the whole point. But how do you enjoy doing the work when so little is guaranteed? For Alex and Juliana, the mystery is half the fun. If you listen to Hot Garbage expecting a statement on the human condition, you’re shit out of luck. They provide the listener with zero answers, but they just might leave you with new questions. So forget finding yourself—take a page out of Hot Garbage’s book and get lost. Head into the forest and forget to leave a trail of breadcrumbs. Run around in a maze and set fire to your map. Watch a David Lynch movie without looking up “Mulholland Drive ending explained (Reddit).” Get lost, and crack a smile as you sink deeper into the unknown.