There’s nothing more resonant than the human voice. It contains timbres and textures no other instrument can replicate, but most importantly, it’s immensely powerful: One voice can spark an uprising, but many voices in unison create a movement. Nya Gazelle Brown, Sabrina Cunningham, and Piya Malik, the three women who front NYC punk-chic, discodelic band Say She She, understand how to wield such power. They soar above irresistible grooves, locking together in gorgeous three-part harmonies that cleverly disguise the feeling of righteous rebellion permeating their music. Theirs is a multi-pronged call to action: Move your body, expand your mind, and recognize your strength.  Say She She, whose name pays homage to Nile Rodgers, made Cut & Rewind, their third record, almost immediately after wrapping the tours supporting 2023’s Silver. The band’s trajectory has skyrocketed over the past few years, earning praise from The Guardian, the LA Times, MOJO, and NPR, and touring with Thee Sacred Souls. They have performed at venues like the Hollywood Bowl in Los Angeles and the Roundhouse in London, as well as festivals including Glastonbury, Austin City Limits, and Pickathon. They’ve long mined the sounds of the '70s and '80s, citing Minnie Riperton, Rotary Connection, Liquid Liquid, and ESG as influences. Cut & Rewind expands their scope, incorporating elements of Lonnie Liston Smith and the Lijadu Sisters into their sonic palette while channeling the spirit of contemporaries like Lambrini Girls and Amyl and the Sniffers. It all combines into a psychedelic soundscape of pulsing disco beats, astral whistle tones, and earwormy melodies.  Over a couple of short, intense sessions, Brown, Cunningham, and Malik gathered with their rhythm section, Dan Hastie, Sam Halterman, Dale Jennings, and Sergio Rios—all members of cult funk band Orgone—at Rios’s North Hollywood studio, Killion Sound. Say She She’s writing practice is an exercise in presence, as each of the three channels their front-of-mind thoughts and feelings into cathartic transmissions. There’s an element of spontaneity at play, informed by the players’ affinity for The Meters-style jamming and the studio discipline of Booker T and The M.G.’s, as well as Malik’s time in a post-punk improv band with Liquid Liquid’s Sal Principato. “The writing room is very free,” says Brown. “We’re able to just be, and fully express ourselves.” They’d write a song and record it that day, cutting the instrumental to tape no more than three times, choosing their favorite take, and immediately laying vocals. To preserve that raw, spur-of the-moment vibe, they stick to a hard and fast rule: “We never record anything that we can’t recreate live,” explains Malik. “It’s the same thing when the three of us are up on stage that happens in the studio.”  Each of the 12 tracks on Cut & Rewind crackles with palpable energy, practically daring you to keep your head and hips still. The cosmic boogie of “Chapters” ripples out into the ether, while the no-wave throb of “Shop Boy” glides like rollerskates through a warehouse loft. The silky “Under the Sun,” written in solidarity with the 2023 Writers Guild of America strikes, shines like a sun flare in a camera lens. The three vocalists deftly weave around each other, sometimes creating an interlocking rhythmic lattice (part of a technique they’ve dubbed the “Say She She sigh”), sometimes coalescing in a heavenly triad. But a politically charged undercurrent buzzes beneath the lush, strobing sonics, giving these jams an added heft. In a time of political turmoil where community is more necessary than ever, Say She She offers a particular salve: protest music dressed up as a sweat-dripping, body-moving, consciousness-raising good time.  “She Who Dares” is a simmering slice of psych-funk that imagines a near-future dystopia wherein women’s rights have been decimated globally. The group started writing the piece as a way to exorcize a notably insulting male interaction, but it morphed into a more universal, fist-raised anthem. It starts with Cunningham’s voice filtered through a megaphone, explaining how hundreds of thousands of women have suddenly been imprisoned across the world. “It feels scary, setting a Handmaid’s Tale tone,” explains Cunningham, “but ultimately, it’s meant to be empowering for other women.” The song doesn’t linger in fear; instead, it seizes and becomes that megaphone, issuing a chant of encouragement to keep up the good fight.  Early album highlight “Disco Life,” whose unbreakable beat and shimmying tambourine live up to the name, is one of Cut & Rewind’s most overtly political cuts. It examines the 1979 “Disco Demolition Night” at Comiskey Stadium in Chicago, a publicity event-turned-riot organized by shock jock Steve Dahl. Attendees were encouraged to bring a disco record in exchange for cheap admission, which Dahl would then burn in a dumpster—already an implicit attack on a genre fronted by Black people, queer people, and women—but the crowd brought and destroyed anything made by Black musicians. The lyrics decry the event’s racism and homophobia, understanding that the roots of the riot still linger. Say She She knows a better world is possible, and uses “Disco Life” to manifest “a playing field where all are free.”  Cut & Rewind is Say She She at their most vital, both outside of time and profoundly of the now. It urges us to stay present and attentive to the challenges we must endure, but offers a way to recharge our collective battery. It’s a shimmering, celebratory epic, equally suited for the dancefloor and the demonstration.