Kate Nash Again

I heard Foundations again the other day, and it stopped me cold. Kate Nash’s voice cutting through that synth-pop production, all brittleness and want. That song did something to me when it came out, and it still does—the way she could make being desperate for someone sound like an observation about weather.

For a while she was everywhere, then she wasn’t. Nicest Thing was perfect too, but sometimes artists burn out or you stop listening or the algorithm moves on. Either way, you get to a point where you don’t think about them anymore.

She’s back now with a new record, My Best Friend Is You, and I put it on expecting… I’m not sure what. The old brittleness, maybe. The same sharp-eyed girl watching London go by. But she sounds different. Older, obviously, but also lighter somehow. Like she stopped trying to impress anyone and just started writing songs for herself. There’s warmth in there now, alongside the smartness. Not softness exactly—still sharp, still observant—but the desperate edge is gone.

The album sits somewhere between pop and something more understated. It’s the kind of record you can play on a good morning and it doesn’t feel out of place, but it also holds up when you’re paying close attention. Every song lands cleanly. Nothing feels like filler.

I don’t know if she was always capable of this and just needed time, or if coming back meant she had something to prove to herself, which made it all better. Either way, it’s good to hear from her. The world had space for more Kate Nash, and she knew it.