Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Sacrilege

Karen O’s voice hits different when you’re not expecting it. Hearing Yeah Yeah Yeahs for the first time felt like permission to make noise that didn’t have to be beautiful or controlled—just raw and loud and yours. They came out of New York in the early 2000s when indie rock was still figuring out its language, and they said no to most of it. The guitar was angular, the songs were short and violent, and everything felt like it mattered in a way that made sense only to people who got it.

What felt sacrilegious about them wasn’t shock value. It was that they didn’t care if you thought they were good. Just that they existed and meant something. That kind of indifference to approval is rare. You either felt it or you didn’t.