“A Power Punch Not a Pity Party” — The Beaches Release Sophomore Album
Graphic by Julia Norkus
By Payton Cavanaugh
Relationships, trust, love– with some people, they just suck. Honestly don’t blame me for that worldview, Blame My Ex.
If you’re looking for the perfect album for the better ex (you), The Beaches have you covered.
Their sophomore EP, released on September 15, is charged with empowerment and laced with female rage. It’s what you need to get over your pill of an ex and generally push through the struggle that is womanhood. The Beaches, a Canadian rock band formed in Toronto, are self proclaimed “indie sleaze meets new wave.” They’ve been sweeping the states and rising the charts, especially following their set at Boston Calling this past summer.
Rising the Billboard charts, Blame My Ex brings us through a sonic journey of femininity as an entire experience. It’s nothing like your typical heartbreak album–it’s a power punch, not a pity party.
Opening the album up strong, the first track, “Blame Brett,” explores the struggles of vulnerability.
“That’s why I don’t get vulnerable/don’t you dare get comfortable”
Opening your heart up and giving your all to someone when you’ve been burned is a terrifying concept. Adopting a low committal mindset can be key, especially when commitment has only hurt you before.
The lasting feelings of heartbreak can be so confusing to navigate. Any journey through heartbreak is never linear. To illustrate this experience, the following tracks explore the mental impacts of heartbreak, interspersed with confidence and personal empowerment. “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Paranoid” explores the experience of questioning your own self worth and the value of your affections. It explores the utterly debilitating experience of being hurt by the one with whom you were most vulnerable.
“I must've left my self-esteem at the base of your bedsheets /Where I used to leave my socks / Well, I miss that girl a lot / Well, she's just brand new and unimproved, I guess.”
In the tracks that follow we are continually guided through varying aspects of heartbreak, yet never left without at least a trace of empowerment and reclaimed independence. The track “Me & Me” serves as a reminder that you are the only one who knows you best and what a lovely thing it is to spend time with the person who gets you to your core. What a freeing experience it is to realize that you are your own best friend. You’re the only person that is with you 24/7, so might as well learn to love yourself, right? We’re ditching the notion that single equals sad spinster, and adopting the narrative that you are the real prize.
Continuing with the theme of female empowerment, the track “Everything is Boring” calls out the exhaustive experience of simply being a woman in any space.
“I was thinking about girls supporting other girls/Then, I woke up in a meeting with a bunch of random dudes/Telling me what I should do”
Sometimes everything just feels unreachable and the burnout becomes routine. It’s an insufferable loop leading to nothing but exhausting outcomes. Sometimes, “Everything is Boring.” The Beaches combat the notion that male authority dictates what artistic depictions of the female experience look like.
It’s not just that one track; This concept is apparent throughout multiple tracks on this album. “My Body ft Your Lips”, and “Cigarette” both explore sexual tensions between objects of desire. They reference leaving a mark on an innocent portrayal of love and relationships, and encourage yearning, desire, and self empowerment. Honestly, who says female heartbreak albums have to be a sob story all of the time? Heartbreak is much more nuanced than that.
To further the concept and understanding of non-linear heartbreak, the album closes out with a few tracks that explore the addictive rush and refreshing feeling of new love (“Kismet” & “Cigarette”), while recognizing the internal struggles of commitment after immense heartache. Falling in love is terrifying, especially after falling out of it. Sometimes it's easier to fall into the comfortability of solitude, or rather, of yourself. The track’s “Shower Beer,” “Edge of the Earth,” and “If a Tree Falls” explore the feeling of hesitation, of not wanting to lose a part of you for someone else and face repressed emotions.
“If I hold you too close / will the good things still grow?”
The push and pull of a new relationship can be extremely damaging, exhausting, and yet— euphoric. This track explores the hesitancy of opening up to someone new, in fear of returning to the distressing nature of past relationships. The passion and the fervor can be all consuming in the best and worst ways possible. Trust is the hardest piece and you don’t want to ruin what you have. Truly, if you get too close, will the good things still grow, or will you get burned?
The bottom line is, the people of our past inevitably serve as lessons. They show us what we want in future relationships, oftentimes leading by examples of what we don’t. When a relationship ends, we are left with remnants of love. While it may have once felt the world would stop spinning if they weren’t in your life, you’ll be alright. The Beaches do an incredible job of conveying the complexities of heartbreak and womanhood as an entire experience. They combine themes of angst, empowerment, love, and anguish with such a rich understanding of all of it. Blame My Ex is undoubtedly the heartbreak album of the year.