7 finds the two more in sync than ever, more attuned to what's going on in the world around them—it's sometimes hard to distinguish who's singing what. "Being alone's a drag," Alex says. "It's ultimately having a playmate," Victoria continues. That dynamic shows up in "Black Car," a song on the back half of the album that gestures at the societal tension that's become more evident and more intense of late:

We want to go

Inside the cold

It's like a tomb

But it's something to hold

And in the time

Before it ends

When the stillness bends

I skipped a rock and it fell

to the bottom

Each time I'm walking at night and I can't close my eyes

There's a wish for peace embedded there, beneath the subdued synths, the punishing bass kick, and the androgynous, twinned voice. It's not violent, not quite, but it's right there, right up against the edge.

"I find that language can be stifling, limiting. It's stupid," Victoria says. "But violent language, these times are insane. People get one stupid idea, everything's over, you know? The sense of chaos, or insanity, or darkness, makes you so grateful for what you have," Victoria says. "I think it also fuels us," Alex finishes. Every artist, Victoria says, making sure I write her words down exactly, has a different level of wound.