Courtney Barnett emerged from the slacker-rock underground with a voice that felt instantly essential — a despondent, laid-back, anxiously optimistic take on post-grunge. Listening to Barnett has always felt like listening to reason itself: clever lyrics, jangly riffs, and existential malaise that validate your deepest worries. In the cluster-fuck of 2026, her new album Creature of Habit arrives right on time.

Across 10 tightly wound tracks, Barnett sharpens the wit and lyrical enjambment that made her a cult favourite. The deadpan refrain “I know you’re trying to help me” on “Stay in Your Lane” reads like both plea and warning, later echoed on “Great Advice.” “Same,” with its LCD Soundsystem pulse, grieves the person you thought you’d become.

On the Waxahatchee-assisted “Site Unseen,” pedal steel drifts like an ebbing tide as Barnett leans into uncertainty. And on “Mantis,” she searches for order — “organizing all my thoughts, making them rhyme” — carving small alcoves of meaning in chaotic times. If Creature of Habit offers anything, it’s the quiet wisdom of staying present.