FLORENCE + THE MACHINE EXPLORES FAME, POWER, AND FEMININITY ON ‘EVERYBODY SCREAM’
Florence + The Machine’s sixth studio album, Everybody Scream, is their heaviest yet. The album, fittingly released on October 31st, 2025, primarily explores themes of feminine power, grief, and her cemented place as a legendary artist, interwoven with visceral storytelling of folk-horror, all atop anthemic instrumentals and Florence’s signature voice. It certainly makes for a bewitching listen, though I wonder what the long-term replay value will be. The album features some of Welch’s most scathing and raw lyrics to date, and features only slivers of the optimism and hope that has lingered in the background of the bands previous works.
The opening and title track, “Everybody Scream”, is a primal reflection of her life as a performing artist. On stage, she becomes larger than her body; she enraptures the crowd, leaving them “breathless and screaming [her] name.” Ultimately, Welch realizes the hold this catharsis has on her, the place where, “I don't have to be kind, extraordinary, normal all at the same time,” overpowers the physical damage that performing takes on her body. In the haunting final thirty seconds, Florence chants and shrieks ring out in the backtrack, aptly setting the stage for the dark and twisty 49-minute tale she tells.
The second track, “One Of The Greats”, reflects on Florence's experience as an artist off stage and the business of music. Florence utilizes all 6 and a half minutes of the track’s runtime to make you feel her struggle in your bones. “I crawled up from under the earth. Broken nails and coughing dirt, Spitting out my songs so you could sing along.” In the latter half of the song, Florence strikes, “It must be nice to be a man and make boring music because you can,” the first of many of Florence’s scathing observations against her male counterparts.
Side note—did anyone notice the callback in the second verse, to her song with Taylor Swift “FLORIDA!!!”? “So I did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body”, she sang in the 2024 collab, perfectly pairing with the latest, even darker line, “I kept a scream inside my chest, killed everyone I’d ever kissed”. Suffice to say, Welch has no intentions of looking back.
“Witch Dance” and “Sympathy Magic” comprise the primary folk-horror division, with the former invoking a primal, animalistic ritual that may summon a spirit that might ease the pain. “Witch Dance” summoned major Midsommar visuals for me.
On “Sympathy Magic”, Aaron Dessner’s influence really comes through for the first time. The track opens with tinkering, ethereal guitar, strings and piano, invoking a peaceful nature sound broken by Florence’s search for healing and finding meaning through music.
On “Buckle”, Welch once again revisits the theme of her fame in contrast with her humanity: “I made a thousand people love me, and now I’m all alone,” but then evolves into a more relatable love song about a toxic relationship. This is a common thread among this album; the tracks start out exploring one topic, mostly fame and performance, before introducing layer after layer, until each song feels almost like a mini movie with a cinematic structure.
In “Kraken”, Welch likens herself to the sea monster, growing larger than life. She surpasses so many of her peers who failed to launch and sank to the bottom of a swamp (another nod or otherwise thematic connection to “Florida!!!” perhaps). Ultimately, Welch accepts and embraces what she has become.
While “The Old Religion" has become revered by fans in the short time it’s been out, to me, the real climax of this album comes in the penultimate track, “You Can Have It All”, when all of the themes of fame, power, performance, grief, womanhood, and even pregnancy loss are explored. It all crescendos in an eerie dream state, with an incredibly satisfying drop that will stop you dead in your tracks. Florence asks, “Am I a woman now?” before crying out, “You can have it all!”. Welch vehemently rejects the notion that society has any say over what success and fulfillment look like for women in this cathartic anthem—that I have no doubt will be a highlight on her upcoming EVERYBODY SCREAM TOUR, kicking off in February 2026.
The final track, ”And Love”, will catch you off guard on the first listen, at least it did for me. It felt out of place, so wildly in contrast to everything Welch proclaimed. It’s entirely devoid of the rage and fiery emotion burned into each lyric of the previous eleven songs. It trades fury for stillness, agony for peace. But after a few listens to the album, the purpose becomes clear: Welch will be okay. “And Love” is the quiet reflection that will bridge the gap between grieving and healing.