B-Side Guys

Post-breakup anthems rarely arrive with such startling self-awareness. On “someone new,” Northampton quartet Balter delivers a debut single that feels simultaneously fresh-faced and world-weary, mining familiar emotional territory with an authenticity that transcends their remarkably young age.

The immediacy of Tom Drury’s songwriting becomes apparent from the opening lines: “Life, it moves in such strange ways / And you can’t erase / The things you wanna forget.” This straightforward acknowledgment of life’s permanence establishes a maturity that continues to unfold throughout the track. Producer Jonathan Hucks (who’s previously worked with English Teacher and Hallan) captures the band’s jangle-pop sensibilities without polishing away their rough edges—a wise choice that preserves the raw emotional core driving these young musicians.

What distinguishes “someone new” from countless other indie breakup songs is its nuanced treatment of transformation. When Drury sings, “All I wanna be is someone new / When I’m with you,” he’s not simply yearning for reconciliation but confronting his own identity in relation to loss. The band supports this introspection with instrumentation that balances propulsive energy and contemplative space—Jake Lewis’s guitar work in particular providing both melodic hooks and atmospheric texture in equal measure.

The chorus—”I won’t come around if you’re not there / Don’t try and make me ‘cus I don’t care”—delivers classic indie defiance, but the delivery reveals the defensive posturing beneath. This emotional complexity is perhaps most surprising given that these musicians have only just completed their GCSEs, suggesting lives too young for such bitter wisdom.

Most affecting is the track’s concluding mantra: “I don’t wanna feel alone / I don’t wanna feel alone / I don’t wanna feel alone, again, anymore.” The repetition transforms what could be merely plaintive into something more universal—a collective exorcism of isolation that explains why their early shows have reportedly been “buzzy” and “packed-out” despite having no released music until now.

Balter’s debut demonstrates that emotional authenticity remains indie rock’s most valuable currency. While “someone new” operates firmly within established genre conventions—the jangling guitars, the relationship post-mortem, the anthemic chorus—it succeeds through commitment rather than innovation. These teenagers from Northampton haven’t reinvented the wheel, but they’ve remembered why it rolls: direct emotional transmission without pretension or filter.

For a band whose members are young enough that this might well be their first significant heartbreak, Balter displays remarkable restraint in channeling raw feeling into structured catharsis. “Someone new” suggests that youth doesn’t necessarily require novelty—sometimes it just needs honesty and a good melody.