Chapter 8 of The Sprawl: Reconsidering the Weird American Suburbs is an outright love letter to garage rock. The kind created only by bored and disaffected teenagers. Jason Diamond spends 24 sweaty pages talking about the joys of creating unbridled, no-frills rock music with one’s friends. He discusses how music, drugs, alcohol, and mischief often provide the only means of escape for some kids. While the same kids may be comfortable with that life, they don’t always have control of it. Especially when it comes to cars, jobs, and access culture. From Iggy Pop, Pleasure Seekers, and Big Star, to Touch and Go fanzine, Negative Approach, and The Misfits, the suburbs have always been the cradle of amazing American rock music.
That ethos and aesthetic find their near-perfect reflection in the music of Cold Beaches.
The musical brainchild of Sophia Nadia, the group combines gritty garage rock, dreamy surf, and slacker pop with rocket-powered ambition. On Drifter, the Chicago-by-way-of-Richmond-VA citizen resident has crafted a 10-song album filled to overflowing with flair, heart, and pissed-off energy.
An easy comparison might be Dum Dum Girls and the Go Go’s – lo-fi grit dancing with peppy rhythms and infectious boogie. But Nadia kicks it up a notch by embracing the fuzz of Ty Seagall, the brashness of Hole, and pointed lyricism of Sleater-Kinney. Despite the prominent snarling guitars, I’m swept to the world of American Graffiti with the sheer breadth of chorus, tremolo, and poppy chord changes seasoning the project.
Nadia’s laconic high alto serves as the anchor for Drifter. Just when thick distortion, rumbling bass, and reverb-soaked drums overtake your ears, you’re saved by a croon, swoon, or falsetto belt at just the right moment.
Make no mistake: her laid-back alto isn’t disinterest – Nadia is very much invested in who and what she sings about.
With “Band Boy (Redux),” it’s obvious she’s frustrated with how guys treat her at concerts, so she openly castigates them as misogynistic assholes. On “Somebody,” she expresses her distaste at not being appreciated and goes off to find someone who actually values her.
“Love Me” finds Nadia aware the person she’s with doesn’t love her anymore. She then takes agency for herself to find someone else. Closing Drifter is “Go Easy on Me,” a direct, if dreamy, request for compassion and equal footing in the relationship.
However, the album doesn’t always connect with me as I’d wish. Specifically, I think Nadia needs a bit more of a stylistic North Star. While I’m all for fusions and reinterpretations of influences, you still need one of the elements to sit in the driver’s seat.
For all the toothsome rock and groovy jangle-pop on display, the album isn’t as focused as it could be. An easy culprit could be the tracklisting, as a re-ordering could provide a significant boost to the overall pacing. “SGIT,” “I Miss You So So Much, I Really Do,” and “Grief Stricken Blues” feel slightly out-of-place in their current order.
With that said, Drifter is still a really fun and engaging listen.
It’s a smart and crafty project that’s ‘60s-meets-‘90s reimagined for the current decade. Perfect for listening in quarantine or long drives when you just have to get out so your feelings get some air and space. Nadia is veritably bursting with talent, and I really want her to keep making music.
The biggest seal of approval I can give is this:
I can easily see my daughter jumping out of her chair at dinnertime to play air guitar along with Drifter.
Seeing as my daughter is being raised in the suburbs, she will need all the inspiration she can get to express herself through music. In that respect, it would please me to no end to raise this generation’s Suzi Quatro or Joan Jett.
To learn more about Cold Beaches and Sophia Nadia, follow the band on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.