The Beaches spill “big tea” on No Hard Feelings

When The Beaches rock up to the AWAL offices in King’s Cross (the band signed to the label back in 2023), they immediately strike me as a modern-day version of The Runaways. The ’70s-style panelling and dog-tooth upholstery in the interview room probably doesn’t help. Nevertheless, the group — which comprises lead singer and bassist Jordan Miller, guitarist Leandra Earl, drummer Eliza McDaniel and guitarist-slash-backing-vocalist Kylie Miller, who also happens to be Jordan’s younger sister — exude the same rebellious energy. Jordan even has hip cut-outs in her trousers, despite it not even being midday. One notable difference, however (if Cherie Curry’s autobiography is anything to go by), is that The Beaches are significantly more warm and polite. They are Canadian, after all.

The group may not share the same temperament as their predecessors, then, but their air of female defiance is pretty similar. For one, the band is refreshingly candid about not only refusing to write songs for men, but not actually giving a fuck what men think about their music full stop. “The only people whose opinion I care about,” says Jordan, “are, like, thirteen-year-old girls, gays and theys. I could care less what a straight man thinks about my music.” It’s when the singer adds, “I don’t think they dress well”, that Leandra chimes in: “Every time we say that, they’re in our Instagram, like, so pissed off.” The guitarist’s comment clearly strikes a chord with the band and they all laugh. Only a couple of minutes into our interview, it’s already feeling more like a post-night-out debrief than a classic journalistic back and forth.

That same sentiment can be felt across The Beaches’ discography. After all, the band shot to viral recognition after dropping “Blame Brett”, a song detailing a time of unapologetic promiscuity — which included breaking a certain lettuce farmer’s heart — after Jordan got dumped by an ex. And, yes, Brett is the culprit’s real name. Maybe more than ever, this candour is carried across the band’s upcoming third album, No Hard Feelings, which includes tales of not just Jordan’s, but multiple members’ heartbreaks (the group are keen not to confine their lyrics to the frontwoman’s perspective). “ If we were to go out for a drink and sit down,” Eliza says, “how we wrote this album is how we would converse with each other. So if you’re listening to the record, you’re getting in on the tea basically.” 

Tea is something that the band members have shared plenty of with each other over their past “twenty years of friendship”. Now circa thirty, the women have been playing together since they met — excluding, of course, Jordan and Kylie — at high school back in Toronto. In fact, they’ve been working together for so long that they recall filming a music video with HUNGER editor-in-chief Rankin when Kylie was still a teenager. “It was like a flip on the “Blurred Lines” music video, where we were all in suits and the guys were all in their underwear,” Kylie recalls. “But I was seventeen, so I basically had to be far away.” “They were like, don’t touch her, she can’t touch you, she’s a minor,” Eliza laughs.

Of course, starting their career at such a young age wasn’t without its roadbumps. Before the group had even left school, they had been signed by their first label, Island Records, and were frequently travelling for shows. “The teachers did not love it,” Eliza quips. Though quick to emphasise that the band’s “commercial success” didn’t come until later, she also notes that they received a hefty dose of criticism. “We got bullied a lot,” she continues. And the critique didn’t stop at high school. “People forget that we’ve been doing this for like thirteen years,” says Jordan. “When we were young, there weren’t a lot of female bands, especially in the rock world, so there were a lot of sexist comments.” She pauses. “But it’s been really exciting to see how much that lens has changed — and amazing to see how far we’ve come.”

With their third studio album in tow, just shy of one hundred thousand streams on “Blame Brett” (at the time of writing, they’re on 99,803,965 on Spotify — or “a hundred thousand a day” as Eliza effuses) and a stream of shows slated across the remainder of the year, it’s undeniable that the band have, indeed, come a long way. As Jordan, Leandra, Eliza and Kylie each sip on what I assume are iced coffees (mine is an embarrassingly-English Earl Grey tea), they talk me through the heartbreaks, parties and therapy sessions that have led them to where they are today.

Scarlett Coughlan: So, what are you guys actually doing in London right now?

Kylie Miller: We’re doing a little DJ tour!

Leandra Earl: We’re baby DJs, let’s be very clear. We learned how to make a playlist and transition from song to song. 

KM: Basically, we’re really excited about our album and we wanted a way to connect with our fans in Europe, so we figured the best way to do that is to throw a party — which is what we’re really good at. 

SC: That’s very “Last Girls at the Party”-coded. How would you say your sound has changed for this new album?

Jordan Miller: With a lot of bands nowadays, you only have the lead singer’s perspective, which is something that was a little bit more prominent in our last record. But moving forward, we’re really trying to showcase each of our personalities, especially in the lyrics. Like, I’m bi, Leandra’s queer? Gay? I should probably let Leandra talk about it…

LE: That’s okay, keep going.

JM: No, but I think it’s really important to showcase the plethora of experiences that we all have in the band. Like in “Edge of the Earth”, I’m singing it but it’s Leandra’s story. 

Eliza McDaniel: We don’t want to have just the token queer song, so on this next record, it’s a big part of the conversation, and hopefully a lot of our fans will feel more seen because of that.

SC: Before we talk about the songs that are already out from the album, we have to talk about “Blame Brett”.

JM: You know what? I was having a weird dream about him again last night. He sometimes creeps in and I’m like, why are you here? But, yeah, it was a really crazy time before we wrote that song. We’d just been dropped from our second label, we had let go of our managers and we were starting fresh. Then, as this was all happening, I went through my first breakup and it was devastating. So it was a crazy experience to have all this pressure on us as a band to rebuild ourselves, and then also to do so emotionally — you know, build yourself back up. I’m really proud of that song because, to me, it really embodies that moment of growth that we all went through as a band, and how we got there by digging into painful and honest experiences. 

We got really lucky with the song, too, because I got dumped just as all the Covid relationships were ending, so everyone could relate. And, whenever you’re writing a song, it’s always interesting to be like, well, how would I talk about this? At that time I was just starting to date again, and I was having sex with a lot of people — like a lot of them. 

LE: A prominent one? The lettuce farmer.

KM: Yeah, the lettuce farmer was really into me and I was like, I’m not ready —

LE: I’m not ready to own a farm yet. I’m not ready to grow my own crops [laughs].

JM: Basically, I’m going to break your heart because my heart’s been broken and I’m not ready for a relationship. So I wanted to write a song apologising to my future partners for being a bit of a hot mess (that’s so Canadian — apologising ahead of time).  But then our co-writer was like, wouldn’t it be funny if the whole setup is you apologising to this future partner and then at the end you’re like, LOL, it’s not my fault, though — blame my ex-boyfriend.

KM: And everybody has a Brett — everyone has gone through a situation where you’re traumatised from a relationship, and you need a song to get that emotion out. It’s great that that song can do so much for so many people, and it’s changed our lives. Thanks, Brett.

SC: Is it weird for you that you have to keep singing your ex’s name?

JM: Yes, it is. But I’ve got a special spot in my heart for Brett. It was unfortunate that the relationship ended the way that it did, but he now, through this experience, has given me something that is really important to me and that I’ll treasure forever. Even though it’s kind of annoying that he will never go away.

SC: “Jocelyn” also has quite an interesting origin story.

JM: Well, that came from “Blame Brett”. I was experiencing imposter syndrome because I had written this song about my ex-boyfriend, and everybody was like, oh, this breakup song helped me with my divorce, you must feel so good, you must feel so strong. And in the meantime, we were still talking all the time and I was still so devastated and heartbroken, and I felt like such a liar. Even though that’s a unique experience that I was going through, I think that women often are forced to put on the facade that everything is great, and that they’re strong and capable of anything, but really we’re just one cry away from having a meltdown. 

EM: And for the name, we thought it would be cool to have an answer to “Blame Brett” — to use another name. And we thought the name Jocelyn just sang really well. So we literally just went through our Instagram followers, typed in Jocelyn, and picked one, and then wrote stuff about her life. The things about Iowa and stuff, that’s all from her actual Instagram profile.

JM: I don’t think the Jocelyn we picked follows us anymore…

SC: What about the song, “Takes One to Know One”?

JM: In “Blame Brett”, I say I’m not ready to take accountability. I’m in a new relationship right now and also in therapy, and I am ready to take accountability. Like, perhaps I am part of the issue here in picking messy people because I’m also messy.

SC: That leads on nicely to “Last Girls at the Party”.

JM: Yeah, we’re embracing our messiness with that song, and we just have so many stories of us being the last girls out of the party. I think we got kicked out of a Kings of Leon party once.

LE: We did. By the house cleaners. The party was over, people were cleaning the house and we were still there. 

KM:  When we start going, we never want to leave. It’s kind of a toxic trait, but that song is a fun way to tell that story.

JM: Yeah, it’s a party song about being toxic party guests. We all know who they are, but we are them.

SC: Finally, the last single that’s out from the album, “Did I Say Too Much” — can we talk about the story behind that?

LE: I’m kind of over the heartbreak now, but when I was deep in it and still hurting, I was romanticising all the good moments, ignoring the bad moments, and I just couldn’t get over the last time we were together. She had told me how in love she was with me, then we went to Europe the next day on tour, and when I got back she broke up with me. It just made me think, were you ever in love with me? Was everything you said a lie? So that’s the verses of that song. And then the chorus is like, did I give you too much of me too early on — say I love you too early? I’m sure she’s mad about the song because she’s seen the clips of it, but it’s not about her side of it — it’s just my opinion. I’d like to believe that she was in love with me, but I don’t know.

KM: And the thing that’s really special about this song is it opens up this exploration of queer relationships and dating because this girl also had a boyfriend, and I think being an out person in the community and dating someone in this confusing way — them not picking the queer relationship — is something that a lot of young queer people go through, and a lot of people don’t really talk about that. You’re always getting the crumbs and it’s just so unfair and really painful.

LE: It’s like going through another adolescence. I’m thirty but I came out at twenty-five, so I feel super young in my queer journey, and so I’m making mistakes and I’m falling for the wrong people.  Being queer is such a journey and a mishmash of things, and everyone’s trying to navigate it.

KM: We’re really excited about that song. It has a really feel-good musicality to it, but the lyrics are very sad, which is very on theme. 

JM: Yeah, it’s very Canadian to laugh while you’re crying.