While not as captivating as their stellar sophomore album, The Beaches provide yet another energizing and unabashedly queer collection of indie pop-rock anthems in their third studio album, “No Hard Feelings.”
Originally formed in Toronto in 2009, the all-female group catapulted into stardom in 2023 with the release of “Blame Brett,” based on the breakup of lead singer Jordan Miller and fellow artist Brett Emmons. Buoyed by the single’s meteoric rise on TikTok, the band gained mainstream fame with broader audiences who were drawn to their intoxicating combination of raw vocals, uptempo rhythms and refreshingly candid lyricism. These hallmarks also feature prominently in “No Hard Feelings,” though with slightly less variation in sound.
The album gets off to a mediocre start with the flat vocals in “Can I Call You in the Morning?” –– one of only five new songs debuting in the 11-track album. The second track, however, is one of the standouts of the album. “Did I Say Too Much?” captures the all-too familiar muddle of self-consciousness and blame in the wake of a fizzled-out connection, lamenting, “Why did I speak too soon? / So real to me, girl, is it real for you?”
“Sorry For Your Loss,” another new release, continues this energetic tempo and audacious attitude. In an empowering message of self-respect, it sends facetious condolences to an ex-lover — “Send my deepest sympathies / Really shit the bed with me” — reminding them of all they are missing out on.
Tracks four and six –– both pre-released singles –– are two of the strongest of the album. Continuing the band’s brand of bold lyricism, “Touch Myself” describes the simultaneously thrilling and terrifying feeling of wanting someone you shouldn’t. Anchored (as always) by an ever-reliable drum beat and sweet guitar riffs, it centers queer yearning with a directness most artists veil with nonspecific analogies and convoluted metaphors. This, in and of itself, makes the track stand out.
Released over a year ago, “Takes One To Know One” may not be new to diehard listeners, but it remains the memorable, charmingly self-deprecating heart of the album. Innovative cadences, tonal shifts and mildly ridiculous verses chronicle two “Antisocial, maladjusted / Noncommittal, can’t be trusted” partners, who, despite both being “pieces of work,” seem to make their chaotic relationship work.
Sandwiched between these two standouts, the fifth track, “Fine Let’s Get Married,” comes off slightly underwhelming in comparison. Seemingly riffing on the stereotypically fast-paced nature of lesbian relationships, it details the exceedingly questionable response to indecision or conflict in a relationship: doubling down on commitment. Despite the relatively flat lyrics and production, Miller’s extended high note at the end of the bridge — a guttural wail that cuts through the low instrumental thrum — is one of the album’s vocal highlights.
The first of two consecutive tracks with clothing motifs, “I Wore You Better” offers a brutal dressing down of a lover accused of ill intentions: “You fucked me, girl, just to try it / And led me on ‘cause you liked it.” Continuing the revenge theme, “Dirty Laundry” exposes cheaters who expect to get off scot-free, proudly proclaiming the all-too-obvious: “It’s not my job / Holding on to all of your indiscretions / Girls will talk / It’s a constant water cooler confession.”
The ninth track, “Lesbian Of The Year,” provides an unexpectedly welcome shift in tempo and tone, one the album desperately needs. Behind a slow, steady beat and soft synth chords, equally measured vocals reflect on the loneliness of a romantic void and look back into the past for some kind of cosmic explanation: “Wish I knew my younger self / She could’ve used my help.” Gentle echoes of “better late than never” perfectly complement the melancholy melody, showcasing the group’s artistic range outside of their usually high-tempo comfort zone.
The album wraps up with familiar hits “Jocelyn” and “Last Girls At The Party,” released in September 2024 and April 2025, respectively. The former expresses an admiration bordering on reverence toward the eponymous subject and a deep fear of ultimately disappointing them. By contrast, the latter gives a peppy — if very repetitive –– celebration of a night out and all its revelries.
With the exception of “Lesbian Of The Year,” The Beaches don’t stray far from their established pop-rock sound over the 11-track album. While there is something to be said for staying true to one’s identity, the lack of variety does dim the overall listening experience, especially knowing the kind of range of which they’re capable. However, in an ever-crowded group of alternative queer pop artists, The Beaches strengthen their place in the upper echelon with yet another collection of head-banging, relatable hits.
