Kittie

Kittie are the rusted nails in Nu-Metal’s coffin — and the queens who forged it. While others sang about high school pain, they spat venom and truth. “Spit” was raw wound turned battle cry, opening a door for women in Metal. Two decades later, they sharpen the blade again — older, angrier, wiser. “Fire” sounds like a time machine crash-landing in the storm. And this time, it doesn’t burn out — it burns everything down.