From her deeply personal songwriting to her soon-to-be iconic ocean-blue hair, Charlotte Sands is quickly establishing herself as someone to watch in rock music.

Sands released her highly-anticipated debut album can we start over? on January 24. Released via C.S Records, the record perpetuates Sands’s ongoing record of no-skip tracks with addictive melodies and heart-shattering honesty. Each of the ten tracks was written by Sands in collaboration with Alex Nice, Jordan Lutes and Keith “Ten 4” Sorrells, among others. The album’s deeply personal nature is evident from the title alone, asking a painfully relatable question to anyone who has ever had their heart broken. It sets the stage for an emotional roller coaster from the very first track, and there’s nowhere Sands shines brighter.

Sands kicks off the album with “use me”, a reluctant villain anthem from someone who never asked for such a role. Heartbreak and loathing are captivating as she relives a controlling relationship with a painfully ironic aftermath. From the very first line, it refuses to hold back: “you burned me at the stake without a trial/watching through the flames, I watch you smile”. The verses are a quiet storm with darker clouds on the horizon and explode only when lightning strikes at the start of each chorus, during which Sands wails with palpable disappointment and resentment. Near the end, she legitimately seems at the end of her rope as she resigns herself to whatever her ex is saying to everyone else. It’s a perfect and powerful example of giving up power to gain control.

From there, can we start over? dives headfirst into the confusion and contradiction indicative of a messy breakup. Sometimes she seems totally over it, the best example of which being the addictive “spite”. Not only does it get more experimental with vocal distortion and the introduction of synthesizers, but it cements itself as the next great track in the pantheon of songs about fame as a form of revenge. You can practically hear her rolling her eyes when she sings, “fuck it I’ll get famous out of spite/I’ll make it overnight/be starring in the movies/just to make you cry”.

Other times, she’s desperately searching for what she could have lacked in the eyes of a narcissist. This sentiment is painfully apparent in “blindspot”, where Sands resigns herself to whatever attention the object of her affection deigns to offer. This person says she isn’t like other girls, but she takes it as anything but a compliment: “if that’s true, I’m confused, what am I missing?/I could be like them a little more”. It’s easily one of the best songs on the album, complete with a delicate string arrangement and a more subdued vocal performance. Artists need to be able to pull it back as well as they let it all out, and “blindspot” proves Sands’s medal to do just that.

Two of the best songs on the album, “pity” and “get over it”, were released as singles back in November 2023. The track “pity” puts a delightfully queer twist on the moment you see how gorgeous the girl your ex moved on with is, choosing to obsess over her instead of him: “I’d die to be inside her shoes/I’d treat her better than you do/I hope you know it’s true”. Between the looping pop guitar and the way Sands sighs the song’s title as the instrumental drops out, “pity” deserves a spot on every modern rock playlist. Meanwhile, “get over it” perfectly captures the confusion of wanting someone you thought you’d gotten over. It’s the other side of the coin with a slower but no less compelling groove.

Sands flawlessly balances pop and rock on “teeth”, an insane banger with drums that drive you to dance and a head-bang-worthy breakdown right before the final chorus. While not as lyrically rich as tracks like “blindspot” and “get over it”, it’s the song I’m most excited to see in concert. However, the best song on the record is “on the outside”. A collaboration with Point North, “on the outside” is a perfectly crafted call for solidarity in the midst of self-loathing. That solidarity is achieved with Point North frontman John Lundin, whose voice matches Sands’s emotional and technical vocal power. The lyrics portray a compelling mix of accepting neglect and desperately wanting to be understood, the best example of which coming from the pre-chorus: “they all laugh behind my back like I don’t know/that my whole life is the punchline to a bad joke”. A close second is the acoustic-tinged “die in this room”, a song where Sands offers to give up absolutely everything just to keep her lover at her side. Painfully sincere and relatably overwrought, the acoustic guitar pulls things back to a sad reality before exploding into an overwrought back half.

There aren’t any songs on this record I would call bad by any stretch of the imagination, but “dead body” is certainly the weakest song on can we start over?. Clocking in at only two minutes and nine seconds, the song spends most of its brief runtime repeating variations on the phrase “over my dead body” between trademark-clever lines like “if my blood goes cold and I start to slip/and the antidote is across your lips/I would say my prayers with my last breath/I’d say I can’t wait to never see you again”. It’s also the most pop-ready song on the record in an oddly early-2010s kind of way, particularly in terms of the production and the way Sands’s voice fades out at the end. One could easily hear this song from a Masterpiece Theatre-era Marianas Trench, and not necessarily in a bad way. It’s just. that “dead body” feels uniquely dated and therefore doesn’t have nearly as much replay value as the record’s other tracks.

The haunting title track closes out the album with a heart-wrenching desire to start her relationship over from scratch. A particularly genius part of the song is the way the instruments and Sands’s vocal delivery conflict with the lyrics. The lyrics of “can we start over?” are flat-out delusional, with Sands all but begging her ex for a second chance while coming up with ways things could be different if they could, in fact, start over. What if they met at another time, another place or were just different people? The minor-key drums, ghostly filter over Sands’s voice and wailing guitars scream the truth: no, they can’t start over and she knows that damn well, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. The bass bangs the final nail in this relationship’s coffin right before the final chorus. It is a devastating closure to both the song and its namesake album.

Even with how hotly anticipated can we start over? was among fans and critics alike, nobody could have predicted just how powerful of an album she would craft. Charlotte Sands didn’t just sink her teeth into her debut: she drew blood.

Charlotte Sands’s debut album can we start over? is available to stream on all music platforms. Information on her upcoming tour can be found here.