A Mirror Wrapped in Fire

Lana Crow’s “Orwellian Times” doesn’t ease you in—it grabs you by the collar, tilts your chin up, and dares you to look straight at the frenzy we’ve dressed up as modern life. It’s sharp, it’s punchy, and it’s the kind of track that hits you with its message before you’ve even realised you’re humming along.

Crow’s blend of pop immediacy and rock-edged tension gives the song a heartbeat that feels both urgent and cinematic. The guitars bite without overwhelming, the synths glow with a moody undercurrent, and the vocals glide right between vulnerability and steel—like someone who’s tired of the noise but still rooting for us to wake up.

What really makes this track snap is the attitude behind it. Crow isn’t preaching from a pedestal. She’s standing right beside the listener, nudging us gently—okay, sometimes not so gently—to notice how easily we slip into outrage, how eagerly we join the digital stampede. There’s a certain mischievous clarity in the way she frames it: not condemnation, but a sly, knowing reminder that we helped build the chaos we now complain about.

Despite its heavy themes, “Orwellian Times” is ridiculously catchy, the kind of tune that loops in your head long after the speakers go quiet. Lana Crow manages a rare trick here: she makes introspection sound electrifying. With this release, she doesn’t just announce herself—she sparks a conversation you’ll actually want to have.