Whereas 2018’s How to Socialise & Make Friends showed McDonald focusing largely on issues with the external world, including patriarchal norms, Hurricane features McDonald evaluating and at times overhauling her own attitudes, habits, and relational tendencies. On opener “Caroline”, for example, she assumes an expansive posture, pondering unconditional love (“I know there is love / that doesn’t have to do / anything that you don’t want it to do”), her eruptive guitar spilling over Sarah Thompson’s sultry drums and Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich’s rolling bass. A well-stoked tension resolves cathartically with the hyper-hook-y chorus.

The title song displays the trio’s heightened rapport. “If this is the bottom / I can show you around”, McDonald wryly brags, noting her experience with existential pain and, as a result, capacity to empathize with others. Instrumentation is upbeat, almost danceable, defined by Hellmrich’s melodic bass part. When McDonald concludes, “Look out boys, I’m on fire”, she touches on the defiant tone of How to Socialise, yet with a triumphant rather than reactive tone.

Given the subject matter of “Blue” (relational differences, codependent leanings, complicated attraction), one might expect a melancholy tone; instead, McDonald’s delivery effuses a distinct optimism. At the end of “The Screaming Planet”, a response to the crises and uncertainties of contemporary life, McDonald demonstrates the potency of her voice, sustaining notes and a rich timbre. “I always come back”, she assuredly concludes, addressing a romance to which she’s committed as well as her own resilience.

“Love Like You Do” again spotlights a rhythmic yet tuneful bass part courtesy of Hellmrich. Thompson’s drums slightly lag, giving the track a semi-stoner feel. McDonald’s chorus is immediately enrolling on “Jealous”, as she delivers notes above her usual register. “Still got my collar on / you used to choke me out / I never was really into it / but I’m sentimental now”, she sings. While lyrics such as these would have been presented more acerbically in earlier work, McDonald seems relatively equanimous here, as if she’s engaging in confessional reportage, her tone possibly tongue-in-cheek.

Piano-driven closer “Sing Your Heart Out” is one of the more self-revealing tracks in Camp Cope’s oeuvre. Throughout, McDonald offers encouraging words and affirmations, stressing that she and her partner are greater than and can transcend their individual and mutual problems. Toward the end of the song, Thompson and Hellmrich join the instrumental mix, the piece crescendoing as McDonald repeats with increasing urgency, “you can change and so can I”.

On Running with the Hurricane, McDonald poses important questions; she’s transitioned, however, from the inquiries of How to Socialise to a perhaps more mature and spiritually oriented set of concerns. One might say that she’s pivoted from cynical victimhood to embracing autonomy, exemplifying a more empowered sense of acceptance. Also, McDonald, Thompson, and Hellmrich seem more artistically and energetically in sync than ever, reveling in their opportunities and impressive talents.