Based in Nashville, Winona Fighter—frontwoman and multi-instrumentalist Coco Kinnon, lead guitarist Dan Fuson and bassist/producer Austin Luther—formed after Coco moved there from Boston, and made a strong impression with their 2022 debut EP, Father Figure. Three of its songs— "Subaru,” “You Look Like A Drunk Phoebe Bridgers” and “Wlbrn St Tvrn” —were re-recorded for MY APOLOGIES TO THE CHEF, the band’s debut album, but their power and potency is in no way diminished. In fact, the rage and frustration that courses through them, and which also infuses the band’s energetic and compelling live shows, feels even more visceral, pointed and necessary than before, something that carries over into the other songs too. “I feel like we’re taught to suppress our anger,” Coco says, “whether it’s to do with what’s going on in the world or in our lives. And that’s so lame. Why are we so okay with people being sad and anxious, and not okay with people having an outlet to be angry? That just blows my mind. I think if more people were able to be angry, maybe everyone would be a little happier.” Recorded by Austin at his home studio (“I call it Studio A,” he smiles, “A for Austin”), MY APOLOGIES TO THE CHEF is a wonderfully raw and cohesive reflection on life today that bottles the spirited and cathartic energy of the band’s live shows, as well as the angst and anxiety of being alive. The tone is set immediately with “JUMPERCABLES," a catchy indie-punk anthem that’s fun and fiery in equal measure, before “You Look Like A Drunk Phoebe Bridgers” and “Subaru” soar with the band’s trademark catchy hooks and choruses. Elsewhere, “Swimmer’s Ear” balances tender aggression and self-deprecation, “Johnny’s Dead” is a heart-wrenching tale about substance abuse, and “Swear To God That I’m (FINE)” is an explosion of defiant self-affirmation. One of the angrier songs on the album, “R U FAMOUS,” is a blast of powerfully bitter vitriol tempered by humor, intelligence, and nuance. That balance is something also present in the snarky catchiness of “I Think You Should Leave” and throughout the blistering urgency of “I’M IN THE MARKET TO PLEASE NO ONE," a song about dating abuse inspired by a letter Coco wrote for a therapy session. The idea was to write it, get all her feelings out and then destroy it, but for some reason she kept it.   When she stumbled across it sometime later, the band were already gaining ground and the idea for the song was born. “I found it at a time where people were starting to really listen to our music,” she remembers. “There were a lot of young women coming to our shows and a lot of dads being like, ‘Oh my God, my daughter would love you guys.’ So it felt like the right time to use my voice to sing about something pretty serious. When I showed it to Austin we thought it could maybe motivate people who had been—or still are—in the situation I was in to speak up and speak out and try to get their power back. Originally, I wrote it for me but feel now like it’s a song for other people. And there’ll be these big ass grown dudes in the audience scream-singing it, so I think it means a lot to more than just the young women I had intended it to be for.”   Despite the strength in these songs’ delivery, underlying them all is a raw vulnerability. It’s the band’s ability to overcome that, and the adversity that inspired it in the first place, that makes this album truly special. That comes across nowhere more strongly than on the album finale, “DON’T WALLOW.” Originally written about the band flyering to promote “Johnny’s Dead” outside a festival they weren’t actually playing, the song turns a negative and embarrassing experience into a source of positive inspiration. “It was very humbling,” says Coco, “and a little embarrassing to stand outside of a music festival you could be playing and handing out flyers, but we want this so bad. You should be uncomfortable all the time during this process. That’s how a lot of our career has felt up until this point and I think it’s going to continue to feel that way. If you’re comfortable, you’re not doing enough.” It’s an attitude that captures Winona Fighter, and this debut record, perfectly.