You think you control the story
There’s a lesson you’ve got to learn
My crown of thorns knows no mercy
And I can’t wait to watch you burn
For centuries, the Catholic Church has preached virtue while policing women’s bodies and silencing their voices. It sanctified obedience, weaponized guilt, and called it grace, making women both the altar and the offering. From the infamous Magdalene laundries to whispered confessions (often to their own abusers), the Church has taught submission as salvation. Reclaiming power means unlearning their myths: seeing Eve as the first seeker of truth, rather than brushing her off as a sinner. Women must write new gospels from their own experience, build temples of autonomy, and turn faith into freedom, where no institution dictates the worth of our souls.
In her upcoming album Love Me To Death, Nashville’s Maggie Luv glides into the glittering abyss between heartbreak and self-resurrection, her debut EP steeped in synths that hum like fluorescent confessionals. With a poise that recalls the glamour and fatalism of the 1980s, she calls her style “Vampire Pop,” a term that suits her dual gift for allure and autopsy. Behind each pulsing beat lies the question: how much of love’s ecstasy is worth the ruin that follows?
Her powerful single Crucified, co-written with Drew Charron, is both dirge and declaration. Over an arrangement of shadowy synths and cathedral-deep reverb, Luv delivers a velvet verdict against her tormentor. The track wields Catholic imagery like a blade: confessionals curdle into indictments, and the plea “Forgive me Father” becomes less penitence than provocation. The chorus’s repeated “I want to see you crucified” mocks a faith that sanctifies suffering, turning her pain into a public pageant. In an era when religion still scripts women’s guilt, Luv writes her own gospel of retribution. Luv is not blaspheming for pure theatricality, she is placing patriarchal theology itself on trial.
The production, sleek yet suffocating, evokes the golden age of dark synth-pop: the frozen romance of Depeche Mode, the gothic grandeur of Tears for Fears’ The Hurting, the candlelit despair of early Madonna balladry rewritten in blood. Her vocals, smoky, deliberate, faintly dangerous, bear the weight of one who’s both priest and penitent, saint and siren. Each syllable feels lacquered with loss but sharpened with intent.
The accompanying video, directed by All Hallows Productions (Rosegarden Funeral Party), stages Luv as both hunter and sacrificial lamb: veiled in virginal white, crowned in thorns, oscillating between purity and predation. It’s a tableau of the Catholic imagination turned inward and inverted; an exorcism through aesthetics.
Watch the video for Crucified below:
If Love Me To Death has a thesis, it’s that heartbreak is a form of liturgy and vengeance a rite of liberation. Maggie Luv stands at the altar of the wounded and the wise, her synthesizers tolling like church bells for the faithless. In her hands, sin becomes art, and salvation is sung in minor keys.
Listen to Crucified below and order the single here:
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