
Daisy the Great‘s The Rubber Teeth Talk, released on June 27, 2025, via S-Curve Records, marks a bold evolution for the NYC-based duo of Mina Walker and Kelley Dugan. Produced by Catherine Marks (known for her work with boygenius and St. Vincent), this 11-track album transforms post-tour introspection into a kaleidoscopic journey through the subconscious. Drawing from distorted dream logic, it blends indie pop’s whimsy with raw emotional excavation, creating a space where grief, desire, and absurdity coexist. Backed by bandmates Bernardo Ochoa and Matti Dunietz, the record feels like a theatrical diary entry—playful yet piercing, theatrical yet intimate.
The album opens with “Dog,” a jittery anthem capturing the spiral of a bad mental health day: “I’m in my head, it’s a kennel of what-ifs.” From there, it unfurls like a fever dream, progressing from daytime anxieties to nocturnal revelations. Standout “Ballerina” erupts with spiraling synths and a nightmarish circus vibe, as Dugan and Walker wail about unfulfilled childhood fantasies: “What’s the point of a body if I’ll never be a ballerina?” It’s edgy and hook-filled, flipping nursery-rhyme distortion into a critique of performative perfection.
“Swinging,” inspired by a nitrous oxide overdose at the dentist, confronts the fear of the void with buoyant defiance: “I’m scared but, I’m swinging.” The track’s searing guitar riffs and tight harmonies evoke a freefall toward light, blending misunderstanding with crystalline clarity.
Lyrical wizardry shines throughout. In “Rest of My Life,” lines like “I have to lie / I have to lie down with myself tonight” pivot from deceit to self-soothing, while rapid-fire alliteration in “Ballerina” mocks social media’s “pretty people party proudly.” Tracks like “Dream Song” and “Mary’s At The Carnival” lean into the duo’s folk-rock roots, with ethereal vocals layering over experimental production—think Fiona Apple meets Dirty Projectors, but sunnier.
The title track, a surreal closer, embodies the album’s ethos: rubber teeth chattering secrets from the ether, open-ended and inviting interpretation. The Rubber Teeth Talk proves Daisy the Great‘s limitlessness, turning personal shadows into shared catharsis. Fans of Sarah Kinsley or half•alive will find a kindred spirit here: an invitation to dance through uncertainty, proving that even in the dark, the music swings.