B-Side Guys

Sometimes healing arrives through a torrent of sound. Charlie Lane’s debut album “I’m Okay Now But I Wasn’t,” released October 17, 2024, is a masterclass in musical catharsis. Over 45 minutes, Lane takes listeners on an unflinching journey through trauma, self-discovery, and eventual acceptance, crafting eleven tracks that pulse with both vulnerability and defiance.

Opening track “Gold Drips” sets the tone for what’s to come, with Lane reclaiming her voice through a potent mix of contemplative verses and explosive choruses. The production shines here, building from intimate moments to full-band crescendos that mirror Lane’s growing confidence. When the crunchy electric guitars kick in during the song’s final act, it feels like witnessing someone breaking free from their chains.

“Ginger,” written when Lane was just sixteen, showcases her early songwriting prowess. Now reimagined with lush string arrangements and gospel-tinged backing vocals, the track serves as both a time capsule and a testament to her artistic evolution. It’s a bold choice to include such early work on a debut album, but the risk pays off beautifully.

The album hits an early emotional peak with “Fifty Shades of Bruised.” Here, Lane strips things back to acoustic guitar and strings, creating space for her exploration of worthiness and love. Louis Spencely’s subtle tambourine work adds just the right amount of texture to this alt-country confession.

“Dance With You” marks a shift in tone, incorporating sparkling retro synths and warm guitar tones. Lane captures the universal experience of pre-rejection anxiety with remarkable specificity, turning those butterflies-in-stomach moments into a surprisingly danceable track.

The album’s middle section delves into darker territory. “Gone” is particularly striking, wrapping thoughts of escape in deceptively upbeat production. This juxtaposition of light and dark continues in “I Hate Me,” which morphs from gentle introspection to pop-punk catharsis and back again, mirroring the cyclical nature of self-loathing.

“I Need Sleep” draws from Lane’s experiences in a toxic share-house, its arrangement reflecting the push-and-pull of domestic tension. The decision to strip everything back to guitar for the final verse serves as a powerful reminder that some cycles are hard to break.

“Tears,” perhaps the album’s most challenging track, tackles domestic abuse with unflinching honesty. It’s a testament to Lane’s artistry that she can transform such personal pain into something both universal and cathartic.

The lockdown-inspired “Walls” captures the specificity of pandemic-induced agoraphobia while speaking to broader themes of isolation and fear. Lane’s mournful vocals, supported by reserved guitar work, create an atmosphere of beautiful desolation.

“Why Aren’t You Listening?” examines generational trauma through a lens of frustrated recognition. The track’s bittersweet but catchy instrumentation provides the perfect backdrop for Lane’s exploration of family dynamics and inherited pain.

The album closes with “I Can’t Do Much,” a surprisingly uplifting finale that showcases Lane’s genre-bending abilities. Starting with a groovy foundation, the track evolves through punk and ’80s rock phases, ultimately landing on a message of positive nihilism that feels earned after the emotional journey that precedes it.

What sets “I’m Okay Now But I Wasn’t” apart is its fearless authenticity. Lane, a queer and disabled artist, brings a unique perspective to her storytelling, but the emotions she excavates are universally resonant. The production throughout is thoughtful and dynamic, thanks to collaborations with Adam Heath, Rohan Sforcina, Jasmine Johnston, Louis Spencely, and Jet Kalt.

The album’s strength lies in its refusal to offer easy answers or neat resolutions. Even its title exists in a state of tension, acknowledging both past pain and present healing. Lane’s decision to pair devastating lyrics with often energetic music creates a compelling friction that keeps listeners engaged throughout the album’s runtime.

For a debut album, “I’m Okay Now But I Wasn’t” displays remarkable confidence and artistic maturity. Charlie Lane has crafted a work that serves as both personal exorcism and universal balm, proving that sometimes the most honest art can also be the most healing.

As Lane prepares to take these songs on tour throughout Victoria, one can only imagine how they’ll evolve in live settings. What’s clear is that “I’m Okay Now But I Wasn’t” marks the arrival of a significant new voice in Melbourne’s music scene, one who isn’t afraid to shine a light into life’s darkest corners and find something worth singing about.