On her third solo album, Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party, Hayley Williams finally breaks free from the machinery that shaped and constrained much of her career. As Paramore’s frontperson, she’s long been a conduit for millennial angst and defiance, but here, on her first independent release, she channels a different kind of rebellion one rooted in grief, self-discovery, and sonic experimentation.

Williams wastes no time sharpening her blade. The opening track takes direct aim at the 20-year contract she signed with Atlantic Records at just 15, a deal so sweeping it touched nearly every aspect of her career. “A lot of dumb motherfuckers that I made rich,” she spits, her delivery icy and unflinching. It’s not just bitterness it’s reclamation. After decades tethered to corporate control, Williams’ voice rings out with hard-earned authority.

Musically, Ego Death is her most adventurous record yet. Where Petals for Armor leaned into art-pop vulnerability and Flowers for Vases showcased stark intimacy, this album pushes further into fractured, experimental pop landscapes. Synths wobble and splinter, percussion tumbles in disjointed bursts, and her vocals veer between whispers and wails. The palette feels chaotic at first, but within the chaos lies coherence—an artist translating the messiness of grief and reinvention into sound.

Lyrically, the record oscillates between mourning and catharsis. Williams reflects on professional exploitation, personal loss, and the strange isolation of growing older in public. The title track part satire, part dirge captures this duality perfectly, skewering shallow celebrations while unpacking deeper emotional voids.

What emerges is not a neat narrative but a jagged mosaic of survival. Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party is bold, abrasive, and deeply personal the work of an artist who has shed the last of her constraints and stepped, defiantly, into her own light.