Angry Female Songs to Scream in the Car

The song that detonated Jagged Little Pill into a 33-million-selling phenomenon. Alanis turned a breakup into a full-body exorcism, and every woman who'd ever been wronged screamed along in her car.

A one-word title that became a feminist reclamation anthem. Meredith Brooks declared she could be a lover, a child, a mother, a sinner, and a saint -- and none of it was a contradiction.

Gwen Stefani doing backflips on stage, singing about how society underestimates women. Sarcastic, furious, and impossibly catchy -- a ska-punk feminist anthem that transcended its genre.

Dolores O'Riordan channeled Irish rage about The Troubles into one of the most recognizable rock songs on Earth. Her voice shifted from lullaby to battle cry mid-verse, and it hit like a wall.

One album, one massive hit, and a legacy that grows stronger every year through memes and karaoke. Linda Perry screaming 'What's going on?' is the primal scream therapy session that never ends.

They criticized a president on a London stage, got blacklisted by country radio, then won five Grammys for the album about it. The ultimate CMR revenge song in any genre.

The leather-jacketed godmother of CMR declared she didn't give a damn about her reputation, and meant it. Joan Jett was the blueprint -- the proof that women could own rock and roll without asking permission.

Ann Wilson wrote this snarling response to a record label's sexist publicity stunt, and the opening guitar riff became one of the most ferocious in rock history. Heart proved women could shred as hard as anyone.

The riot grrrl anthem to end all anthems. Kathleen Hanna wrote a love letter to female rebellion that became the movement's defining song and CMR's most radical ancestor.

L7 were punk-metal feminists before anyone had a hashtag for it. This grinding anthem off Bricks Are Heavy is apathy as protest -- pretend you're dead until the world earns your attention.

Courtney Love traded punk chaos for polished power-pop and the result was Hole's biggest hit. Co-written with Billy Corgan, it's a glittering takedown of Hollywood artifice wrapped in an irresistible hook.

Fuzzed-out dual harmonies that hit like sugar-coated grenades. Veruca Salt named their rage before a certain post-grunge band borrowed the word -- and theirs was better.

Pure catharsis. Kelly Clarkson transcended her American Idol origins with a song you play at full volume when the relationship finally ends and you finally feel free. Written by Max Martin and Lukasz Gottwald.

Post-breakup empowerment turned into a stadium-sized party. P!nk proved that the CMR spirit didn't die with the 90s -- it just got louder, funnier, and more unapologetic.

She screamed 'I'm doing fine, Mother!' while very clearly not doing fine, and a generation of daughters felt represented. The angriest phone call home ever set to a violin riff.