|Kate Nash’s Triumphant Return: “9 Sad Symphonies” is a Bittersweet Symphony of Heartache and Resilience
“It’s really important to be a strong role model. It’s one of my main things because I feel I’ve been exposed in such an extreme way to a lot of sexism.”

★★★★☆
[Kill Rock Stars]
It’s been over 15 years since Kate Nash burst onto the scene with her smash hit “Foundations” and the chart-topping debut album Made of Bricks. In the years since, the UK singer-songwriter has weathered industry turmoil, personal setbacks, and the cancellation of her critically acclaimed Netflix series GLOW. But through it all, Nash has remained a singular and defiant voice – one unafraid to tackle the everyday struggles and emotional complexities of modern life with her trademark blend of sharp-tongued wit, unfiltered vulnerability, and relatable everygirl charm.
Now, Nash returns with her fifth studio album “9 Sad Symphonies” – a sweeping, cinematic tour de force that finds the artist grappling with heartbreak, loss, and the anxieties of our tumultuous times, all while emerging stronger, wiser, and more musically ambitious than ever before. Recorded in the wake of the GLOW cancelation and during the isolating grip of the COVID-19 pandemic, the album is a bittersweet symphony of sorrow and resilience – a stirring meditation on the pain and joys that make us human.
From the gut-punching opener “Millions of Heartbeats” to the cathartic album closer “Vampyre,” Nash guides us through a vivid emotional landscape, her diaristic lyrics painting pictures of loneliness, self-doubt, and hard-won self-acceptance. But rather than wallow in melancholy, she infuses these vulnerable moments with a defiant spirit, her melodies and arrangements swelling and soaring like the score to a lost Hollywood melodrama.
Sonically, “9 Sad Symphonies” sees Nash expanding her palette, blending her signature piano-driven pop with lush orchestral flourishes, atmospheric synths, and pulsing electronic beats. Longtime fans will recognize the barbed lyrical wit and kitchen-sink storytelling that have defined Nash’s work, but here she pushes her sound to grander, more cinematic heights, resulting in her most ambitious and fully-realized album to date.
The opening salvo sets the album’s emotional tone. On “Millions of Heartbeats,” Nash lays bare the quiet desperation of modern life, her plaintive vocals cutting through a swirling storm of strings and pounding percussion. “Everything hurts, yeah, it hurts so much/I eat my dinner in the toilets at lunch,” she sings, painting a vivid portrait of the isolation and self-consciousness that can plague even the most mundane daily tasks.
But beneath the song’s melancholy exterior lies a deeper well of emotion – Nash wrestling with the weight of global crises, the fickleness of fame, and the fear of losing touch with loved ones. “Are we just numbers, just statistics?/Will the media still support the far-right scum?/When I’m dead and gone, will anyone remember my name?” she ponders, her words taking on an almost existential quality.
This ability to zoom out from the personal to the universal is a hallmark of Nash’s songwriting, and it’s on full display throughout “9 Sad Symphonies.” On the defiant “Wasteman,” she turns the tables on a condescending ex, her biting lyrics and bravado-fueled delivery reminiscent of her early breakout hits. But the track’s cinematic orchestral flourishes lend an epic quality, transforming what could have been a simple kiss-off into a sweeping statement of self-empowerment.
Similarly, the gorgeous “Abandoned” finds Nash grappling with the aftermath of a failed relationship, her delicate vocals riding atop a melancholic swell of strings. “I feel so abandoned, abandoned, abandoned,” she laments, her words dripping with a palpable sense of longing and loss. Yet the song’s soaring chorus suggests a glimmer of hope, Nash refusing to be defined by her heartbreak.
As the album progresses, we see Nash’s perspective shift from one of heartache to one of cautious optimism. On the playful “Space Odyssey 2001,” she revels in the comfort and security of a loving partnership, her quirkily endearing lyrics (“Took you to an underground wrestling club/Freaky and buff and covered in blood…It’s plain to see you’re in love with me”) belying a deep well of emotional maturity.
Elsewhere, Nash embraces the simple pleasures of everyday life, finding joy in the mundane rituals that so often get overlooked. On the charming “Horsie,” she delights in the act of tidying her bedroom, the song’s gently plucked harp and clip-clop percussion evoking a sense of homespun warmth. And on the jaunty album closer “Vampyre,” she revels in the small moments of self-care, singing about washing her hair in the shower over a buoyant, singalong-ready melody.
It’s a testament to Nash’s skill as a songwriter that she’s able to find profundity in the seemingly trivial. As she sings on “Ray” – a plaintive folk-tinged number about being stuck in the hospital – “Sometimes the little things are the biggest things.” By grounding her narrative in these relatable, slice-of-life vignettes, Nash is able to tackle weightier themes of mortality, societal ills, and the complexities of human connection with an authenticity that feels both deeply personal and universally resonant.
Lyrically, “9 Sad Symphonies” is Nash’s most ambitious and introspective work to date, but it’s her musical evolution that truly sets this album apart. Working with producers like Rich Cooper (Foxes, Tove Lo) and James Slater (Birdy, Dua Lipa), Nash has crafted a sonic landscape that is both cinematic in scope and intimately textured.
Strings swoon and flutter, synths pulse and shimmer, and Nash’s voice – by turns delicate and defiant – soars above it all. Standout tracks like the aching “Abandoned” and the pulsing, electro-tinged “Wasteman” showcase Nash’s ability to blend pop immediacy with a more grandiose, almost film score-like sensibility. And on songs like the ethereal “Space Odyssey 2001” and the bittersweet “Ray,” she proves adept at crafting more stripped-back, folk-tinged arrangements that allow the raw emotion of her songwriting to shine through.
Throughout it all, Nash’s distinct personality shines through – her lyrics dripping with wry humor, her melodies imbued with a singalong-ready charm. It’s a delicate balancing act, but one that Nash pulls off with aplomb, never losing sight of the relatable heart at the core of her music.
In many ways, “9 Sad Symphonies” feels like the culmination of Nash’s journey as an artist. She’s weathered the highs and lows of the industry, emerged from personal setbacks with her creative spirit intact, and now stands as a beacon of resilience and self-possession. This is an album that sees Nash embracing the full breadth of her artistry, unafraid to grapple with life’s complexities while still maintaining the playful, approachable spirit that has endeared her to fans from the beginning.
It’s a bittersweet symphony, to be sure – a work that revels in the pain and joy of the human experience. But in the end, “9 Sad Symphonies” is a testament to the power of perseverance, a stirring reminder that even in our darkest moments, there is always light to be found. Kate Nash has crafted a modern pop masterpiece, one that solidifies her status as a singular voice in the musical landscape. It’s an album that will make you laugh, cry, and sing along – often all at once. In short, it’s quintessential Kate Nash: fierce, funny, and festival-ready.
|SUPPLEMENTAL
Below are the offical vidoes for ‘Millions of Heartbeats’, ‘Space Odessey 2001’ and ‘Ray’ :