After a viral breakthrough (“Blame Brett”) and back-to-back Group of the Year victories at the Juno Awards, Toronto alt-rock quartet The Beaches are capitalizing on their rapid ascent, delivering a third studio album that’s devoid of filler: just 11 killer choruses, backed up by equally catchy grunge riffs and frontwoman Jordan Miller’s lyrics that aren’t afraid to get cheeky, risqué, or hilarious. 

The Beaches are the kind of band that will juxtapose a series of puns based on vibrator brands with touching sentiments about romantic loss, all set to a melody that has just the right amount of maddeningly catchy pop bliss to round out the heavier elements. At the same time The Beaches are also delivering the kinds of topics their legions of fans flock to them for: chaotic and queer-centric love stories, or simply partying as hard as they possibly can. 

Countless songs have been written about the pressures attached to a rapid rise in fame, but many don’t feel quite as tangible as a track like “Jocelyn,” which originated as a simple rumination on a melodious, made-up name, but since became connected to a real fan named Jocelyn. A PhD student, the band reached out to her and put her centre-stage in a track about the confusion and imposter syndrome surrounding their status as party girls idolized by a promising member of academia. 

Yes, The Beaches are masters of a hooky melody, but no matter who you are, they’re also deeply relatable and human.