Album Review: Coast Arcade

If you’re craving a band who can take you back to the heyday of 2000’s emo rock, Coast Arcade are here to help. Their self-titled debut album is all about coming of age, tackling themes of relationships, mental health and cutting your own path through life. It’s reminiscent of acts like Paramore and Evanescence, operating at a similarly breakneck pace, but also offering up a distinctive and proud Kiwi twist to the classic sound.

Across the roughly thirty-five minute run time, Coast Arcade does not pull punches. It’s all about powerful, winding guitar lines and thrashing drums. Opening on the lingering emotion of Kids, it immediately situates the listener in the difficult stages of early adulthood, longing for the simplicity of being a child again.

It’s followed by the moodier and darker tones of Cycles and Acetone, both songs which refuse to shy away from the Aotearoa accent and feel all the more unique for it. The mixing blends the lead vocal largely in amongst the instrumentation, creating a thick wall of sound that reimagines the live environment Coast Arcade thrive in beautifully. They’re heavily experienced on stage, performing with acts like Bootleg Rascal and The Beths and playing Rhythm and Vines. It’s clear these songs will pop even more in such settings.

The purposefully sharp suburban rock of City Limits stands out amongst the tracklist, thanks to the intensity of the percussion. The fun, jaunty guitar rhythms in the song’s finale add an extra boost of serotonin before things calm down on Week. This track explores the boredom and frustration of waiting on someone else to make a change in a relationship. The slow pace emphasises consistent singular beats like the agonising ticking of a clock, an obvious but natural and effective analogy. Simple harmonies add emotion to this heartfelt track.

Week soon escalates into a cathartic instrumental, collapsing and distorting into whining feedback that preludes the explosion of Greener. Here, the instrumental is so earth-shatteringly loud and aggressive, it starts to become difficult to process, which is an incredibly compelling factor that furthers Coast Arcade’s undeniable cool factor.

Afterthought also stands out from the pack because of its highly visual lyrics. It curiously depicts an out-of-touch love interest, who’s reading on the train surrounded by dazey, sun-speckled imagery. The chorus is fit for a stadium sing-along, and the flourishes of acoustic guitar throughout make it feel warmer and richer amidst the record’s otherwise hardened sound.

Whilst these songs do tend to blend together by the end of the album, due to their largely shared structures and instrumental choices, there is a sense of dynamic range and relief building to the powerful belting on final track Baited. It’s grungy and gritty in a way that never gets too dark to dance and head-bang along to. Plus, the relatively short album length makes sure Coast Arcade don’t overstay their welcome, instead opting to tease you for another replay if you’re sold.

This album is a tight, cohesive collection that’s a paragon of its genre. Young rock fans will love this relentless style, especially if they’re searching to feel understood by musicians who are going through what they’re going through, too.