I began discovering music in my teens. Music had been a passive part of my life until then, valuable but not crucial, a way to feel but never personal. The switch, when it finally came, was irreversible. From the moment I realized my power to find meaning through music, I never looked back. It was one of the most liberating feelings – exploring sounds and lyrics that spoke solely to me, without others’ influences conflating the experience. Those moments of trying something new, when I was finding my own way and my own voice, unquestionably shaped not only my music tastes but the person I have become.

Looking back on those teenage years, I am grateful above all else. I am grateful that I grew up alongside technology, which enabled me to more easily access music across the pond and branch out with no fear or commitment. I am grateful that I found an outlet to process my emotions and experiences, however serious or trivial they may have been. Those years built upon my foundation, adding another layer to my childhood memories, and contributed to my independence. Playing specific albums after school while doing homework. Watching acoustic performances of my favorite b-sides on YouTube. Selecting the perfect CD for my first solo excursions as a new driver. Waiting for hours before doors to snag barrier. All vivid memories of that period of my life that I hold on to and cherish.

As someone who is naturally reflective, I’ve also realized that those undoubtedly important musical adventures were nevertheless incomplete. I spent most of my time listening to artists who were anywhere between five to fifteen years older than me, and while that generally isn’t a big time gap, at that point in life it is. Your perspective at sixteen is different than it is at twenty-five. And even though I was able to interpret lyrics to fit my own stories, to mold them into my own version so they would maintain relevance within my existence, there was always a little piece missing that prevented me from fully connecting.

Moving into my early twenties shortened this gap, and now that I’ve crossed over into the mid twenties zone I am more or less growing alongside the bands I’m listening and relating to (we won’t even mention the fact that there are artists I like that are now younger than me, because that just makes me feel old, but if you insist see my Inhaler concert review for more thoughts on this). It’s a new experience that I am trying to be more aware of. I think the pandemic heightened my sensitivity to time, how it can be perceived to move both quickly and slowly but yet never stops. So having people my age going through similar realizations and experiences and thought processes makes me feel even more seen than before.

I’ve given you all of that background so you understand how much I had been looking forward to March 25, 2022. Why you ask? Well, British alternative band Sea Girls dropped their sophomore album, Homesick, after pushing back its original release date of January 14, 2022. And it came packed with all of the mid twenties topics I’d been hoping for.

With all of my built up anticipation, I began crafting this review in November, analyzing the singles as they were released so I could be ready for the big unveiling of the rest of the record. But life got in the way of how I expected to absorb this music. Although I had every intention of posting this review on or very near after the release date, I didn’t even listen to the album until mid-April. I have since decided that I want my thoughts to see the light of day. I want others who love the band to read my interpretation and I want the opportunity to share this music with those who have yet to discover Sea Girls. So here goes.

I’m hesitant to call this a pandemic album because I don’t want you to get the wrong idea before you listen to it. It never references the actual pandemic. It doesn’t need to be specific because it has all of the underlying feelings and emotions of reliving and revisiting your youth during quarantine, when the world hit the pause button and the only thing you had to sit with was your thoughts about what you were doing, how you got there, and where you were going next. Maybe it is just a generic quarter life crisis vibe, but going through that at a time when everything felt out of your control exacerbated certain fears. What I love about this album is that not only can I directly connect to it, having gone through more or less the same quarantine doom at this specific age in my life, but also in years to come, when the pandemic is only present in the history books and not in day to day life, anyone approaching this phase of growing up will be able to grab onto these themes and identify their own intersections between the music and their personal journey.

It’s also interesting to consider that the album was made remotely, with some producers in California while the band was in studio in London. Those producers include long-time collaborator, London-based Larry Hibbitt, who has worked with the band since 2017-2018 during the singles days and the Heavenly War EP era. Added to the mix this time around were co-producers Jacknife Lee (who boasts production credit for the likes of Kodaline, Snow Patrol, The Killers, Two Door Cinema Club, and Catfish and the Bottlemen, just to name a few), Jonny Coffer, and Cass Lowe. This combination of influences, both in geography and perspective, contributes to the overall sound and feel of the music.

“Hometown“, the third single released November 18, 2021, is first up in the tracklist, priming the listener on the overall mood and energy of the album. The song has a fresh and rambunctious sound, with an underlying current of nostalgia reminiscent of early 2000s indie rock. The discordant electric guitar opener, courtesy of Rory Young, immediately grabs your attention, steadies out and transforms into the melodic line, and ultimately pulls you into the the world of Sea Girls for the remaining duration of the album. Bass guitar, played by Andrew Dawson, takes over the reins, holding down the instrumental and supporting the vocal with a thumping and steady line. Percussion sneaks in during the latter half of the first verse, but it’s not until the first chorus that the full kit, helmed by Oil Khan, picks up and drives the track forward.

An instrumental middle eight, urgent and brash yet refined and tasteful, awards attention to the electric guitar and leads into the bridge, where the vocal rejoins. At the very end of this bridge, right before the final chorus, all of the instruments pull back and allow the build to culminate with a vocal feature uttering the words “we didn’t talk cause it wasn’t cool to talk about”. The background silence is striking in that moment and provides an intriguing contrast to the rest of the piece, and those very lyrics in that absolute spotlight offer a sense of regret about not being open and transparent but also illuminate a characteristic of growing up and wanting to present a narrow version of yourself to fit in and be perceived in a certain way. You put so much thought into what others will think rather than into what felt right to do, often missing opportunities to fully experience life.

Lead vocalist and songwriter Henry Camamile wrote “Hometown” after reemerging from lockdown in 2020, explaining that the track is about “people [he] knew growing up that aren’t around anymore”. It’s a recognition that not everyone from your past can continue on your journey alongside you. The key piece of that awareness is that it doesn’t alter the memories of the past. People fade in and out of life in phases, serving purposes big and small. Just because you go on and move in separate directions doesn’t negate the shared moments. One of the initial lines, “nothing seems real when you’re seventeen”, really drives that home. As teenagers on the cusp of adulthood, there is an overarching feeling that time can’t possibly alter what you have and who matters to you. There’s an element of invincibility to life and you feel outside of the realm of reality. With hindsight, you can dismiss that thinking as totally naive, but also acknowledge that it created freedom. It allowed you to dream and imagine beyond yourself without worrying about the consequences of your decisions.

Sea Girls waste no time persuading listeners to dive headfirst into the album, programming “Sick” as track two. In general, the song offers a more choppy and compartmentalized sound, diversifying away from signature anthemic pop rock tones. Bass and percussion utilize eight note rhythms to push the meter. While the instrumental isn’t as melodic as usual, it grants the vocal room to craft a smoother arc over the abrasive and tinny accents. Electric guitar riffs often serve as a call and response to the vocal, especially in the verses, and a synth feature in the outro provides a retro feel that complements the narrator’s sentiment in that powerful yet haunting moment.

If you were to just read the lyrics of “Sick”, they appear like a simple list of things that could get on one’s nerves. That would make them feel fed up and tired of the same old nonsense. But there’s an element of poetry to that list that only a true songwriter could achieve. Camamile buckets the things he’s sick of by the verse – first he hits relationships (“being in love” and “it being over”), then things in and out of our control (“bad habits” and “good looks”), and finally himself, using a broader approach to look inwards. It’s that escalation, going from the more universal and mundane to the personal and specific, that makes the track more than just a jaded lament. It’s introspective and the added piece of accountability convinces the listener that maybe, even if change isn’t possible in every situation, there’s value in knowing and recognizing our shortcomings. To see ourselves as imperfect. Because we do have control of our own actions and the way we treat one another.

The release of “Sick” on August 9, 2021 as Homesick‘s first single was a turning point for me as a Sea Girls fan. It was clear they were saying something that wasn’t being said by anyone else. Spanning materialism to mental health with one track, they were filling a hole in the music space by being vulnerable and honest. Through the song, I was able to close the gap between what I subconsciously knew to be true and what I was willing to confront. Sustained notes feel like they’re one step away from being screamed and shouted, displaying the utter chaos of the mind and the often desperate plea to make things stop. In the “full version” of the track, released separately, there is a more deconstructed, broken down section between the second chorus and the third verse that really depicts this inner conflict. I attempted to decipher what sounds like a voice note layered underneath the instrumental, with Camamile saying “even in silence we still suffer” followed by the question “can we have a little bit of silence please?”. That contradiction gets to the crux of what it’s like to battle with your own brain.

The next chunk of the album focuses on themes of young love and adolescent insecurities. “Lonely“, one of the most different sounding tracks from the band, begins this section. A country western intro, including a whistle that creates a scene of an impending duel on a dusty road, threads itself throughout the piece, with elements flaring back up in the choruses. “I get a little bit lonely when I’m not with you” is the main hook, as the narrator tries to hold on to a lost love. “Someone’s Daughter Someone’s Son” tackles a different flavor of this idea. The narrator comes full circle with his feelings; beginning with infatuation, he recognizes his luck with the opening line “OMG, I can’t believe you’d pick me”, only to lament “OMG, I wish you hadn’t picked me” when looking back on the hurt experienced as the relationship matured and came to its natural end. This shift is supported by a build up emanating from the electric guitar in the bridge, setting the listener up for a revelation. Although more mellow in tone, “Sleeping With You” surfaces a desire to return to a former flame even when you have entered into a new partnership, simply because you are still hanging on to that person who is unforgettable and seemingly irreplaceable. And “Paracetamol Blues” explores taking a chance and perhaps settling for someone just to avoid loneliness, with a tinge of hope that, even with all of your flaws, they will put up with you. “I don’t like myself but maybe you do” really opens up the vulnerability and potential optimism that you can be seen through a better lens and loved despite your shortcomings.

Vacillating electric guitar notes that slightly crescendo create tension to kick off “Again Again“. That tension is immediately resolved at the onset of the verse, which brings in the full band. It’s easy to pick out the kick drum keeping the beat, as you will likely start tapping your foot as soon as you hear it. Bass guitar supports the vocal during transitions from the choruses into the verses, and bass and percussion hold down the bridge section. A soaring instrumental leads into the final chorus. Lingering, oscillating electric guitar notes, similar to the start of the track, assist in the overall fade out of the piece, signaling that the listener’s journey has come full circle.

Seemingly minor touches to the arrangement elevate this song from good to super interesting. The first of these sonic delights is a triple set eighth note sequence executed on electric guitar. Originally, I would have said they occur at the end of the verses, but these notes change the complexion and underbelly of the track enough that I would argue to label these sections pre-choruses. Coming in at the end of vocal phrases “I feel bad in the morning” and “but I hate being boring”, almost as a punctuation that ties the lyrics together, this rhythmic accent lifts the entire instrumental as it gears up for the exuberant chorus. The other feature that caught my attention is carried out on the kit. Full snare hits in sync with the vocal at the conclusion of the second chorus add emphasis and another layer of energy to the piece. In both cases, instruments are used as an extension of the vocal line, playing off one another to create a cohesive yet captivating wall of sound.

I couldn’t help but visualize the mosh pit jumping along to this melody, which is likely why Sea Girls chose it as their second single and released it on October 15, 2021. My guess is it will be killer live; I could see “Again Again” perhaps getting people back on their feet after a slower section of a gig, or even setting off an encore. Thematically, Sea Girls tackle casual relationships and being addicted to someone so much that you can’t get enough, even when it’s not necessarily good for you (perhaps the same subject of “You Over Anyone“?). “You scare me half to death / but you’re worth the suffering” is a key line of the chorus, tapping into the narrator’s hesitancy as well as his ultimate desire to ignore his brain, desperate for another hit of oxygen he gets from the time he’s with this love. Above all, the phrase “it’s all secondhand, my happiness / but life’s unkind, it’s just how it is” transcends the lyrical story and makes a bolder, more self-aware statement of the narrator’s view on his own worth.

“Lucky” marks the beginning of the latter half of the deluxe edition. The narrator contemplates alternate realities influenced by both space and time, recognizing his overall luck in being right here, right now, as the person he is because of external forces and individual growth. There is an underlying sense of promise in that what awaits us is unknown but we do have autonomy and should be grateful for our rareness and circumstances. “I kick myself for how sad I got / but I’m here to stay for these blue skies” emphasizes that willingness to maintain an open mind.

I consider the next track, “Higher“, to be something of a cousin or close relative to “All I Want To Hear You Say“, which is one of my all-time favorites from Sea Girls. In “Higher”, the chorus phrasing is tweaked to both insinuate getting high as a way to cope with jealousy and getting higher, as in rising above the noise to deal with how things are. It describes the envy one can experience in seeing or hearing about an ex’s new partner, admitting to the hurt but also persevering to get over it and seem unbothered, burying the resentment by substituting it with the courage to move on. “Cute Guys” is of a similar vein. The narrator is fearful of being replaced by an upgraded version of himself. The sonic style is something we haven’t heard before, with electronic components giving the melody a futuristic vibe and the evolution of the electric guitar riff and cracking vocals kicking into gear a frenzied scene of desperation and disappointment.

All of the songs on Homesick were written by Camamile with co-writing credit to various other songwriters. “Friends” is the only track that was co-written by other bandmates, with credit going to Camamile, Khan, and Young. It is apropos given the title and topic, centering around taking control of your own life and enjoying the seconds by experiencing moments with others and surrounding yourself with the people who matter most. Standout lines include “enjoy the good times while they last / cause soon that shit will all be in the past” and “every second you’re not wasting’s one you’ll never get back”, both of which really cement the point of living in the now and acknowledging the fragility of life.

On the deluxe edition, there are two bonus tracks. “Watch Your Step” is pop rock based. According to Camamile, the song informed “Again Again” and was written around the same theme. There is something about the chorus that makes it stick in your brain long after listening, and although there is doom hinted at in the lyrics, there is an overarching brightness to the melody. “I Got You” strips back the production to close out the record with a love song. The minimalist arrangement and acoustic based melody hone in on the vocal and the sentiment of being in a reciprocal relationship, knowing that you have someone to fall back on in good times or bad.

While Sea Girls have been releasing music since 2017, they’ve had some unfortunate timing. Their debut album, Open Up Your Head, dropped on August 14, 2020. Needless to say they weren’t able to have the proper initiation into the music world with a headline tour in support of that debut, at least not on the scale they probably could have had things been different. There’s no sugarcoating how much of a bummer that must have been, given the hard work and build up to that moment that every artist dreams of.

Nevertheless, it’s worth mentioning that the band remains positive and seems to always be grateful for what they were able to do, including coming back to the touring circuit in autumn 2021 to play their biggest UK shows to date, with a notable sold out gig at Brixton Academy. And truth be told, following up with a second full record, about a year and a half after Open Up Your Head and in the first quarter of a new year, brings nothing but hope. At the very least, having space to reflect through Homesick has left me excited not only for the band’s prospects, but for my own future as I slowly navigate out of this isolation alongside the rest of my peers.

I honestly don’t remember how I discovered Sea Girls. My digital trail leads me to believe that I first got into them in early January 2019. But I don’t remember the catalyst. What I will say is that their sound encapsulates all of the reasons I got into this genre of music – dynamic electric guitar riffs, driving percussion, rhythmic bass, and compelling lyrics that give you the opportunity to scratch beneath the surface to find meaning that often juxtaposes upbeat melodies. It’s the music that makes me feel alive. And it’s unfortunately the music that has faded from the current music landscape in America.

But it’s also more than that, because it goes back to my opinion on connecting with musicians with this age component thrown in the mix. The four band members are each around my age, so while we are different genders living on different sides of the world, there is a sense of parallel movement. I still interpret and internalize lyrics, bending them to my own personal life just as I did as a teenager, but it’s not so much of a stretch now. It’s me finding a way to understand what’s going on at this exact period of time through other people’s form of expression at a nearly identical stage. And there is something beyond the usual magic of music there.

Beyond that, I’m impressed with the band’s growth. And I don’t just mean from 2017 to 2022. There’s evidence of development even between album one and album two. I personally feel like a lot of the bands I listen to put out solid debuts, only to lose focus and their ultimate sonic thumbprint in the rush to the second record. Excited to experiment but often going a touch too far, whether that’s with the arrangements or instrumentation, or conforming to the mainstream, with vapid lyrics and seemingly vague points of view. I’m so relieved to say that’s not the case with Sea Girls. They managed to release a new body of work that stays true to their roots, identifiable and familiar but unmistakably more mature and robust. That is the ultimate gift to a fan.

So, hats off to you, Sea Girls. Homesick is surely a sophomore album to be proud of.

Purchase Homesick on iTunes, Amazon, Rough Trade, HMV, and the band’s official webstore.

Stream Homesick on Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, Soundcloud, Deezer, Pandora, iHeart Radio and YouTube Music.

Stay up to date with Sea Girls on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, YouTube, and their official website.

DISCLAIMER:  All views and opinions expressed on this site are my own and do not represent the views and opinions of any entity whatsoever with which I have been, am now, or will be affiliated.