★ ★ ★ ★ ★
This is The Beaches at their sharpest: witty, emotionally layered, and musically adventurous.
Toronto’s The Beaches have always thrived on contradictions: brash and vulnerable, sharp-tongued and heartfelt, indie darlings and unapologetic pop-rockers. With No Hard Feelings, they prove that those contradictions aren’t weaknesses – they’re the very engine of their creativity. I suppose Blame My Ex from 2023 was their messy breakup record that turned heartbreak into cheeky empowerment. In that case, No Hard Feelings is the more reflective, atmospheric, but no less catchy aftermath.
It’s an album about living with yourself once the dust has settled.
It’s about carrying scars without letting them define you, and about finding humor, even in moments of pain.
A Bigger, Bolder Sound
From the opening moments of No Hard Feelings, it’s clear the band has leveled up their production. The mix is lush without being overstuffed. Guitars shimmer with ’80s-inspired sparkle, and the rhythm section is taut and muscular. The band leans into texture and atmosphere – without ever losing their knack for a hook.
Jordan Miller’s vocals sit at the center, alternately sly, biting, and heartbreakingly open. Her bass provides the pulse, while Kylie and Leandra Parsons’ guitar interplay balances grit with melody, adding color to every track. Drummer Eliza Enman-McDaniel drives the momentum, her beats alternately lean and explosive. The chemistry feels tighter than ever, each member complementing the others like a conversation among old friends.
Track-by-Track: The Arc of No Hard Feelings
1. Can I Call You In the Morning?
The album begins not with bravado but with a hungover question mark. Over jangling guitars and a restrained rhythm, Miller delivers a wry morning-after reflection: What now? The track sets the tone for the album’s themes of regret, intimacy, and the awkwardness of moving forward. (“I liked your old band, but not the new songs. Should we just break up then? (Never mind). I don’t mean that, I’m sorry. Can I call you in the morning?”).
2. Did I Say Too Much
The anxiety of oversharing is the central theme here. Fast-paced verses transition into a chant-driven chorus, capturing the nervous rush of saying the wrong thing and replaying it at 2 a.m. (“Did I jump the gun? I really thought this time I found someone. Why did I speak too soon? So real to me, girl, is it real for you?”)
3. Sorry for Your Loss
One of the record’s highlights, this track turns a condolence into a biting kiss-off. With its propulsive bassline and a vocal delivery equal parts sneer and smile, it walks the fine line between humor and cruelty (“Please get well soon. If I left me, I’d be lovesick too.”). The genius lies in its universality – you don’t have to know the band’s specific story to feel the sting.
4. Touch Myself
Here, the band leans into vulnerability. It’s cheeky (how couldn’t it not be?), but beneath the humor lies a confession about loneliness, desire, and self-reliance (“You’re the best thing that I ever felt. The nostalgia’s so bad for my health. I’m so scared to even touch myself. ‘Cause when I do, I think of you, oh-oh.”). The guitars absolutely glimmer, the vocals strut and stumble in equal measure, and the chorus elevates what could be a joke into something profoundly human.
I love, love this song.
5. Fine, Let’s Get Married
The cheek returns in force. A galloping rocker, this track treats commitment like a dare rather than a promise. It’s tongue-in-cheek and exuberant, a satirical jab at the idea of settling down that still works as a genuine anthem. You can almost hear the laughter under the chorus.
6. Takes One to Know One
The shortest and scrappiest cut on the record. Fast-paced, sharp, and bratty, it’s a reminder that The Beaches can still tap into their garage-rock DNA. The call-and-response vocals make it feel like a group shout, destined to ignite their live shows.
7. I Wore You Better
Romantic nostalgia with an edge. Clocking in under three minutes, it’s concise but emotionally charged. The ’80s influences shine – airy guitars, shimmering textures – but the lyrics carry a sting: the sense that no one else will ever quite measure up. It’s one of the album’s bittersweet standouts.
8. Dirty Laundry
Built for sweaty venues, this song takes the metaphor of secrets aired in public and turns it into a communal celebration. The verses simmer before exploding into a raucous, handclap-ready chorus. It’s messy in the best way, embracing imperfection and chaos with a grin.
9. Lesbian of the Year
It starts beautifully – it’s the emotional centerpiece of No Hard Feelings. Stripped back compared to much of the album, it places sincerity above irony. It’s a tender, affirming coming-out anthem that balances vulnerability with pride. (“Parasocial life. I’m no socialite. Wish I knew my younger self. She could’ve used my help.”). While still framed with humor, its real power lies in its earnestness – the band dropping the mask for a moment of truth. Gorgeous – and I love their name drop of Tegan & Sara as well!!!
10. Jocelyn
A polished slice of guitar-pop with sleek melodies and a bittersweet core. On the surface, it’s one of the album’s most accessible tracks, but the lyrics complicate the shine, telling a story of tangled affections. It’s The Beaches at their poppiest without sacrificing depth.
11. Last Girls at the Party
The closer distills the band’s ethos into one song: survival, resilience, and joy. It’s about sticking around after everyone else has left, about celebrating friendship and defiance in the face of exhaustion.
The final chorus feels like a toast – messy, triumphant, and euphoric. It’s the perfect end to the journey.
Evolution and Legacy
No Hard Feelings feels like a maturation. The band’s great trick is how they weave all of their songs’ contradictions into music that’s utterly infectious. You can dance to almost every track, even the ones that hurt. And when the lyrics cut deep, the choruses make sure you’re singing them at the top of your lungs anyway.
The Beaches haven’t abandoned the cheeky, indie-rock bite that brought them mainstream attention, but they’ve broadened their emotional and sonic palette. The songs are bigger, more atmospheric, yet the intimacy remains intact.
It’s an album that will play well in stadiums but still feels personal through headphones.
Final Verdict
At just over 30 minutes, No Hard Feelings is concise – which I like – but packed with emotional punch. Every track earns its place, and the sequencing crafts a narrative arc that feels deliberate and satisfying.
It’s an album about contradictions – irony and sincerity, bravado and vulnerability, chaos and clarity – and The Beaches thrive in that liminal space. With No Hard Feelings, they’ve cemented their reputation not just as one of Canada’s most exciting exports (I have a bunch of others), but as a band with the potential to define this era of pop-rock.
Catchy, cutting, and surprisingly tender. A must-2025 listen.
Chris Garrod, September 22, 2025
Top Tier: Last Girls At The Party, Lesbian of the Year, Can I Call You in the Morning?
Lower Tier: (None, really)
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