The indie-rock band’s third album mixes glossy melodies and real emotional drama
When Charly Bliss came out of Brooklyn with their excellent 2017 debut Guppy, they were snappy Nineties alt-rock revivalists, bringing to mind the Breeders, That Dog, and Veruca Salt with their churning riffs, sharp melodies, and frontperson Eva Hendricks’ coffee-achiever pip of a voice. They followed that LP with 2019’s Young Enough, mixing in some synth gloss with their guitar buzz. It’s been five years since their last release (during that time Hendricks relocated to Brisbane, Australia, and her brother Sam, the band’s dummer, became a dad). On Forever, they’re back to put their own stamp on brat summer, leaning way into the pop side of their sound. Indie bands often dream of writing songs that connect with the larger Top 40 world while still maintaining their own musical and emotional integrity, Few do it this well.
“Tragic” has an Eighties club-pop throb that’d resonate with the Charli XCX fan, before bright New Wave guitars cut in. “Once you let me drive the car you know I’m gonna crash it,” Hendricks sings, at once agro and aching. “Back There Now” brings to mind the Carly Rae Jepsen of Emotion, a sleek banger full of heavy nostalgia and Toni Basil cheerleader chants. On “Nineteen,” Hendricks delivers a soaring homage to Lover-era Taylor Swift with an epic heartbreak ballad. That song transitions into the equally Swiftian folk-rock “In Your Bed,” a beautifully empathetic ode to sisterly friendship.
Some the album’s best moments happen when their love of contemporary pop gets channeled through their indie-rock background. “I’m Not Dead,” a cold-eyed assessment of life stasis, suggests Olivia Rodrigo after binging Weezer’s Blue Album. “I Don’t Know Anything” is shoegaze teen-pop, like Hotline TNT soundtracking a pivotal scene in a Netflix coming-of-age drama.
Throughout the album, Hendricks proves herself every bit as deft at channeling big feelings as any heavy hitter on the radio. She sings about crushes that went awry, reflects on old embarrassments, and relationships that started great and fizzled fast, navigating the pains of being of pure of heart while searching for the real thing and learning to accept herself as the person she is right now. “It hurts to try but it kills to miss/I want you to be my last first kiss,” she sings against the sunburst guitars and arena drum wallop of the album’s closing song, “Last First Kiss,” getting her Pat Benatar/Belinda Carlisle on as the neon synths surge and a Miami Vice sax solo rushes in. The sound is hand-me-down, but the hope in her voice is brand new. The result is the kind of rock & roll alchemy that turns cheese into gold.
