The Beaches don’t need anyone to tell them they’re good. The Canadian group have been around for 15 years and perform like a well-oiled machine, having a marvellous time and effortlessly entertaining everyone. There’s a comfort and ease to it all, an infectious confidence, an innate rock posture.
And there’s plenty to show off about. This show received a hefty upgrade – from Oran Mor – and still sold out.
Before the headliners, a beaming, fresh-faced Chloe Slater warms up the crowd. The English singer and her band are decked out in The Beaches t-shirts and buzzing about their first ever gig in Scotland.
Up-coming indie rock women are everywhere at the moment, and loads of them are really blimmin’ good – making it hard to call which are most likely to stand the test of time … but Slater makes a really solid case for herself.
Her anthemic tunes are classics-in-the-making. They could fit in an 80s movie but also feel untouchably modern. There are hints of Pulp, The 1975, Kate Nash and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs – but Yard Act and English Teacher might be her closest contemporary cousins. Talky bits in songs about things like landlords make her like some sort of Billy Bragg meets Baby Queen – cool and adorable as she gives her sharp social commentary on the housing crisis.
Silhouetted against their bold-typed backdrop, The Beaches start their headline set with the playful and pleading ‘Cigarette’, bouncing around to its The Cure-ish rhythm.
Their diverse setlist gives the impression of a group who have grown up on the classics – digging through CDs in their parents’ cars to discover everything from The Smiths to ABBA, Tracy Chapman, Journey and The Strokes. Their big power pop tunes ought to soundtrack great American road trips … fun and fresh for the first few hundred miles, until the whole car is singing along, sunglasses on, windows down, driving from state to state making core memories.
Occasionally, like on ‘Edge of the Earth’, they drift towards Haim territory – but The Beaches seem less self-conscious, more delightfully chaotic.
Their on stage energy never wanes, and both Jordan Miller and Leandra Earl take stints off the stage to get up close to the adoring crowd. It’s only logical to assume a lot of this audience is fairly new to the band – given recent TikTok success and the venue upgrade – yet the show feels like a big reunion.
On a new song, they shout out a fan called Jocelyn who, according to the chorus, has a PhD in politics. It’s a lyrically interesting little beast that sounds to be built on some sort of identity crisis about how weird it is to have really impressive people look up to you.
Clock app fave ‘Blame Brett’ is naturally the biggest anthem of the night, closing out the main set before a two-track encore, giving the enthusiastic audience a final couple of fizzy rock’n’roll bangers.
