With Cold Beaches' Drifter, You're Reminded of Who You Are
By Modesty Sanchez
Cold Beaches’ new album, Drifter, perfectly reflects Sophia Nadia’s constant evolution and state of motion—as the band’s lead singer/songwriter, producer, and event booker, it’s obvious she doesn’t like to sit still. From the band’s 2017 debut album, Rooftop Honey, to their 2018 EPs, Stay Here and Stay Hungry, to their newest album, Cold Beaches’ evolution is evident, making their new psychedelic rock sound a complete no-brainer for the band whose former lo-fi bedroom pop sound was their signature.
PC: Sophia Nadia by Jeanne Dunn (for Sike Mag)
What hasn’t changed with the new album, though, is how familiar and relatable Cold Beaches as a band is. Cold Beaches has always been known for their intimate lyrics about heartache and mental health, topics that resonate with anyone listening, and this new album is no different. Though it signifies an official departure from their original sound, Drifter stays true to Nadia’s knack for perfectly articulating what it means to struggle with relationships, anxiety, and depression.
Drifter is introduced by the fast-paced track, “Ride,” with the lyrics, “Go slay the public with your rock ‘n’ roll savagery” (which Nadia, herself, doesn’t hesitate to do). Immediately, a slow, deep bassline turns into a speedy drum beat and you’re immediately gripped by Nadia’s distress as she sings, “My honey doesn’t love me and I think I’m really really really going down.” Her urgency to get away and be free is represented by lyrics like, “Drive away, never pay, just keep on rollin’ rollin’ rollin’ ride.” The intensity of the lyrics is complemented by the chaos of the instruments–a pattern found throughout the album. The last minute focuses solely on a medley of guitar riffs and haywire percussion, leaving the listener to imagine how her haphazardly-achieved independence is helping her forget whoever it is that has the audacity not to love her. The track is a whirlwind, but it excites the listener to stay strapped in and be taken along for the rest of the ride.
The theme of romantic conflict (brought about by aggravating boys) continues throughout the album. In “Band Boy (redux)”–an updated version of the original track featured on their EP, Stay Hungry—the nausea and frustration that accompanies interacting with arrogant male musicians is perfectly reflected. “Why can’t I just like your band?...Every band boy thinks they know what I need,” Sophia sings, alluding to the narcissism that has long characterized the indie music scene. This is especially relevant during a time when many indie bands are being outed as abusers who exploit their platform to prey on young girls.
Throughout the song, she continues by coupling her observation of the arrogance of these male musicians with her own indifference to their ‘celebrity,’ saying, “All I’m living for is rock ‘n’ roll, anything else you want, just leave me alone,” and that she won’t even stay for their set; instead she’ll “be outside smoking cigarettes.”
In contrast, with “Boy, You’re Evil,” Nadia–much like the rest of us–is unable to be completely immune to one specific boy. When she’s minding her own business, he pops up out of seemingly nowhere with a call, telling her to come over. Despite not wanting “to feel bad again [because of him],” she still struggles with completely rejecting his offer, wondering, “Why do I want to say yes? You just make me depressed every time I say yes, you evil boy.” The way she sings “evil boy,” almost as if it’s more of a coquettish admonishment instead of an actual reprimand, also hints at how irresistible this boy is. We’ve all been there: despite this boy’s toxicity, we have to admit that he does add a type of excitement to our lives. Without him, we might have some sort of emotional stability, but we’d also be bored as hell.
This theme of unrequited romance culminates later on in the album with “Love Me,” in which Nadia describes seeing the person of her affection with another woman. Her acceptance that this person will never reciprocate her love is clear with the lyrics, “I know that you couldn’t come to me if I tried and begged on my knees, so I won’t…because I know that you don’t love me.” Though the song mainly consists of Nadia’s heartbreak over not being loved by someone she admires, it’s still hopeful and inspiring, as it’s through this acceptance that she’s finally able to reclaim herself again.
In “Somebody,” she does just that. The song sees Nadia taking back ownership of her sanity by blocking out the noxious person in her life. Referring to them as “somebody who doesn’t love me...who wants to fuck me” completely depersonalizes this person and minimizes their importance to her. The explosion of instruments perfectly encapsulates how “crazy” non-men are made to feel when they choose their own company and solitude over the partnership of a potential romantic partner. And, at the same time, the song perfectly shows how romance and love are too easily conflated with physical desire, even though they’re not always the same. In an interview with When The Horn Blows, Nadia says this song was written as a means to reclaim her independence and show non-men that it’s better to be alone than to be with someone who isn’t good for them.
She then dives into something that affects many people, not only non-men: depression and anxiety. “Do you want to run away from my problems? ‘Cause I got them,” she asks her potential partner on “Problems and Heartache (I Got Them).” Here, she explains how difficult it can be to explore new relationships–romantic or otherwise–when you’re still trying to process past afflictions and insecurity surrounding if this new person is worth an investment of time and emotional labor. She ends the song vertiginously repeating the phrase, “I got them,” as a way of seemingly accepting the problems and heartache that make her who she is.
This embracement of her depression continues with “SGIT,” where she proclaims herself to be the “saddest girl in town” while strumming a guitar. The song is a beautiful testament to the rollercoaster that depression is: alone, she becomes enveloped in her sadness, letting her mind race around, yet, in the company of others, she becomes the “sweetest girl in town.” This is clear with the claim that, even though she hates herself and everybody, everyone wants to love her when she’s “whiskey surfing on the crowd.” The dichotomy of her public and private personas, as represented in this trak, is something many who have had to cloak their depressive episodes with forced felicitations can relate to.
From there, Nadia then celebrates the sanctity of supportive friendships with a transition, a voicemail from her friend, Connor, playing over a whimsical piano set. In the voicemail, he laments her absence and expresses an urgent desire to see her. As the title of the track, “I Miss You So, So Much, I Really Do,” suggests, this track is about unique bonds formed between friends, and how the specialness of a relationship intensifies how much one feels the other person’s absence. Connor ends the voicemail by saying how much he misses “just kickin’ it and talking stupid shit...that only [they] can laugh about,” before his voice and the piano fades. It’s a beautiful homage to how devastating it can be to miss a friend, and a testament to how fulfilling friendships truly can be.
Nadia expands on this feeling in “Grief Stricken Blues,” where she reminisces on past fond memories of her and her friend, venting about their grievances on her friend’s porch. She’s “happy and relieved” when she thinks back on her time spent with them, but the reality of her situation–being without them–feels as if she is veritably alone and in the dark.
The record’s last track, “Go Easy On Me,” represents an accumulation of all the emotional sensations Nadia has taken on throughout the album. With extremely clear and prominent vocals, she hauntingly pleads with the listener to “go easy on me, even though we’re all down…even when no one is around.” The song is a perfect representation of the fragility of human emotions, and how they’re made even more fragile by how susceptible we are to the actions and demeanor of those we greatly admire. This, my favorite song on the album, is a truly poignant way to end this profound record about the intricacies of anxiety, depression, and relationship woes.
PC: Neha Carvalho (for Eyes Wild Mag)
On Drifter, you’ll find yourself floating on the river of pure emotion that Cold Beaches takes you on. At the same time, though, the emotional intelligence permeating the lyrics and the relatability of the emotions described will keep you anchored. Though Nadia is describing her own unique experience with these sensations throughout the record, it’s impossible not to see yourself in the songs—from dealing with unrequited love to narcissistic boys to missing a friend, Drifter will reflect your own vulnerability and fragility back at you.
Make sure to listen to Drifter when it comes out this Friday! And, in the meantime, keep up with Cold Beaches via their socials!