Ghosting rarely gets the courtesy of a final scene. Steph Casey gives it one anyway, filling it with overdriven guitar, drums, split-octave vocals and a chorus ready to answer back.

“10,000 Hail Marys” is a grunge-pop and punk-pop single about the guilt left behind when a relationship ends in disappearance.

Casey makes the unanswered message move at full speed, turning frustration into release.

The Kapiti Coast singer-songwriter reaches this point after a sizable change in her own playing. In 2024, Casey set aside the steel-string acoustic guitar used for almost two decades and bought a G&L Telecaster.

“10,000 Hail Marys” was among the first songs to come from that move.

Casey’s earlier work has been described as story-driven indie folk and Americana. Here, she draws on the alt-rock of her twenties and gives the story a tougher, quicker frame.

This second single from Casey’s third body of work fronts a five-track EP of the same name, due November 6. Caroline Easther plays drums, Alan Galloway electric guitar and keyboard, Murray Costello bass, and Annette Esquenet with Norwegian-kiwi Hanne Jostensen backing vocals.

Lee Prebble recorded it at The Surgery Studios in Wellington.

Casey starts with a lone lead-guitar riff. Overdriven guitar, drums and lead vocal follow before the full band enters in verse two. Her voice divides into two octaves, the guitars grind faster, and the rhythm adds propulsion to every line.

The melodic breakdown offers a brief intake of breath, then a clear high vocal and higher harmony rise above the band. The female chorus calls “10,000 Hail Marys!” and “5,000 Our Fathers!”, making a private complaint feel built for a roomful of voices.

The lyric does not disguise the grievance. “You planned a French exit and kept it hidden / I guess all along you knew something I didn’t” names the problem with a dry, exacting bite.

Later, Casey asks, “How do you deal / with the guilt you feel?” The title turns that question into a tally of penance. In the social-media age, silence can carry the force of a reply, and Casey treats it as something to challenge in public.

The chorus gains force with each shouted line, adding another response to the person who chose not to explain.

The arrangement is direct. A simple opening lets the charge form, the full-band entrance increases the pressure, and the breakdown briefly suspends it before high harmonies and shouted vocals pull everyone back in.

The synth solo, buzzing like a party-drunk bee, keeps the record playful without letting its target off the hook. Casey’s voice stays clear through the noise, so guilt, disappearance and a French exit never get lost in the rush.

For listeners seeking guitar-led new music, “10,000 Hail Marys” has an immediate route in: a catchy chorus, a fast-moving arrangement and a situation many people recognise.

Casey gives anger a grin and a crowd to answer with. It also points to an artist letting an electric guitar change the scale of her songwriting without leaving the story behind.

Steph Casey has made a single that turns a vanishing act into a line everyone can shout back.

With the 10,000 Hail Marys EP arriving in November, this grunge-pop jolt leaves a clear invitation: press play, turn it up and let the missing explanation meet its loudest reply.