No one does cinematic social commentary quite like Melanie Martinez.
The singer-songwriter has built her career on elaborate conceptual worlds, weaving narratives through characters, surreal imagery and a sound that’s distinctly her own. Three years after Portals, she continues that tradition with her fourth effort, HADES.
Where previous projects explored childhood, innocence and transformation, HADES dives headfirst into something darker — power, corruption, gender, religion, capitalism and the systems that shape life today. It’s not about predicting a dystopian future, but examining destructive patterns that already exist. The result is a mythological lens turned toward very real societal fractures using a mythological lens.
That vision is clear from the start. “DISNEY PRINCESS” opens with sweeping orchestration before breaking into a soft but punchy melody. The track critiques the commodification of women, with Martinez crooning, “Can’t quit the show/ I’ve signed the dotted line/ And I’ve fucked every devil,” before the song dissolves into an ominous synth, setting an uneasy tone.
Intro track “GARBAGE” begins with gunfire and a chaotic roar of a crowd layered over distorted instrumentation. It’s intentionally overwhelming — a sonic representation of information overload and societal noise.
“WHITE BOY WITH A GUN” takes a surprising turn, built around relaxed percussion and a dreamy bass line. The subdued production sharpens the lyrical critique, as Martinez calls out misogyny with dry, understated lines. Her soft delivery only makes the message cut deeper. “POSSESSION” echoes that contrast, pairing mellow rhythms with darker textures, including faint church bells. Religious imagery continues on “THE VATICAN,” one of the album’s most striking tracks, where a haunting hymn blends into a synth-driven beat.
Martinez leans heavily on allegory to address religious hypocrisy, delivering the pointed line, “Catholic, Christian, kissing Jesus, licking AR-15s.” The juxtaposition is deliberate and uncomfortable.
The gritty “GRUDGES” spirals into a dark, twisted space reminiscent of Cry Baby, reimagined through a horror-game lens. It explores resentment and revenge with lo-fi, abrasive production before briefly softening with a harp-infused interlude. “WEIGHT WATCHERS” follows with a similarly biting commentary on body scrutiny, a theme that resonates far beyond the spotlight.
Attention to detail runs throughout the album’s 18 tracks. On “MONOPOLY MAN,” coins rattle faintly in the background, reinforcing its themes of wealth and control. “CHATROOM” incorporates nostalgic AOL Messenger sounds alongside slow electric guitar lines, as Martinez reflects on online bullying.
“Project your pain outwards, aspiring to be a knife/ What a life,” she sings, before the track closes with the familiar AOL sign-off.
“BATSHIT INTELLIGENCE” pairs a deceptively sweet melody with heavy subject matter. “Rent is high/ And the taxes due/ On a floating rock/ Burning avenues,” Martinez cries out, blending existential dread with economic anxiety. The track ends with a clip of a news anchor discussing forced homeless encampment clearings, transitioning seamlessly into “GUTTER.” It’s one of the album’s most grounded and overt moments of social commentary.
The album’s middle stretch pulls back on the pace and intensity. “AVOIDANT” strips things back with layered harmonies and ends in a ringing, tinnitus-like fade. “MONOLITH” continues the subdued tone with a piano-led ballad that offers a rare moment of introspection.
That calm doesn’t last long. “THE PLAGUE” erupts into a chaotic mix of glitches and synths, with faint coughing woven into the background. The result is claustrophobic and disorienting, mirroring themes of panic and contagion — both literal and societal.
What Martinez achieves here is not just presenting a broken world, but refusing to look away from it. HADES doesn’t offer easy answers or clean resolutions. Instead, it delivers uncomfortable truths wrapped in cinematic production, layered symbolism and dark pop melodies. It’s chaotic, theatrical, and at times overwhelming — but that is precisely the point.
The album closes with “THE LAST TWO PEOPLE ON EARTH,” a melancholic, dystopian finale that feels like a siren call into the void. It balances longing with a sobering awareness of our place in the world. In the grand scheme of things, we are small. It’s emotionally resonant and thematically fitting as the last piece of the puzzle.
HADES isn’t designed to be easy listening. It demands attention, interpretation and patience. Like the underworld from which it draws, it’s strange, unsettling and revealing. Once you enter, you’re forced to see the world a little differently.
Follow writer Vera Maksymiuk at Twitter.com/veramaksymiuk.
About The Author
Vera Maksymiuk is a Polish American photographer and writer. She’s written for the Stanford Daily, The Red Wheelbarrow and most recently, the San Francisco chapter of Her Campus. She is also a published poet.
