For an album named RAGE, Kita Alexander‘s second full-length effort is remarkably gentle.
That isn’t a criticism. In fact, it’s the album’s greatest strength.
Rather than presenting rage as explosive, destructive, or all-consuming, Alexander approaches the emotion as something far more nuanced: a catalyst for growth, self-discovery, and necessary change. Across these songs, anger isn’t the destination. It’s the spark that illuminates what has been missing, what needs healing, and what deserves to be left behind.
The result is an album that largely inhabits an acoustic, reflective, storytelling space, allowing Alexander’s songwriting to take centre stage. There are moments of sunshine and warmth throughout, but beneath the inviting melodies lies a deeper examination of identity, relationships, self-worth, and the stories we tell ourselves to survive.
“The Good House” is among the album’s most affecting moments. Wrapped in a gorgeous country-tinged arrangement, the song explores the disconnect between appearances and reality. Alexander sings of living in the best house on a “shitty street,” while privately falling apart behind closed doors. It’s a beautifully observed meditation on perception and the quiet struggles that often remain invisible to others. Her vocal performance carries both strength and fragility, perfectly complementing the song’s central message that no one truly knows what is happening inside another person’s world.
Elsewhere, “Metal Detector Man” introduces one of the album’s most memorable metaphors. Built around breezy coastal production and a laid-back summer energy, the track imagines hiring someone to clean up the emotional debris left behind by another person. It’s a song about reclaiming control of your life without regret, and Alexander delivers it with a confidence that feels hard-earned rather than defiant.
That sense of liberation continues on “Worth It,” one of the record’s brightest moments. Driven by buoyant piano flourishes and uplifting horns, the song injects a welcome burst of optimism into the tracklist while maintaining the emotional honesty that defines the album. It feels like the sound of someone finally choosing themselves.
Alexander is equally compelling when examining the messier realities of relationships. “Tell My Friends” tackles a situation many listeners will recognise: venting endlessly about a partner, only to find yourself back together with them. The song cleverly explores the aftermath of anger and oversharing, acknowledging that while expressing emotions is necessary, words spoken in moments of frustration can leave their own complications behind. It’s witty, relatable, and quietly insightful.
One of the album’s standout surprises arrives with “Avoidance.” Beginning with layered vocals before settling into sparse piano and gentle percussion, the song gradually unfolds into something reminiscent of ’90s R&B. Anchored by the striking admission that “avoidance is one hell of a drug,” it’s an honest examination of escapism and emotional self-sabotage. The production evolves beautifully while never overwhelming the vulnerability at the song’s core.
Then there’s “Don’t Call Me Sunshine,” a track that feels almost like an acoustic Motown number. Its central message is one of the album’s most empowering: just because someone brings light into the lives of others doesn’t mean they exist solely for that purpose. Alexander acknowledges her warmth and appeal while firmly reminding listeners not to mistake kindness for simplicity. It’s a subtle but powerful statement about the complexity that exists beneath outward appearances.
What makes RAGE resonate is Alexander’s willingness to challenge preconceived notions about its titular emotion. She isn’t interested in presenting rage as something ugly that needs suppressing. Instead, she reframes it as an emotional compass – one that can point us toward the changes we are too afraid to make, the boundaries we need to establish, and the truths we have been avoiding.
The album won’t satisfy listeners expecting a collection of cathartic breakup anthems or explosive declarations. Instead, RAGE finds power in introspection. It understands that sometimes the most profound transformations happen quietly, behind closed doors, long before the outside world notices.
By embracing an emotion often viewed as uncomfortable or undesirable, Alexander has crafted her most mature and self-assured work to date. RAGE is thoughtful, emotionally intelligent, and deeply human – a reminder that anger isn’t always something to fear. Sometimes, it’s exactly what we need to move forward.
FOUR STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
RAGE is now available through Warner Music Australia.
