“Your Mom’s favourite band and your Dad’s worst nightmare!” The debut release from Not Your Babe feels like the first sip of a fresh Shasta Cola – sharp, refreshing, and with a fizz that immediately snaps you awake. The band itself is the creation of Redding, CA singer-songwriter Cam Tyler, who spent the last decade fronting the indie punk outfit Needle Beach and playing intimate acoustic sets around the Northern California town (Which can feel like its own isolated state to the rest of California!)
After releasing their debut solo EP Mayfly in 2024, Cam brought together longtime friends Preston Faires (drums), Dan Wait (bass), and Zach Zeller (guitar) to form Not Your Babe. Cam is well seasoned in writing albums, and it shows greatly. She is very unapologetic in her lyric writing, blending the raw honesty of acoustic songwriting with the energetic punch of punk. And if you look at Cam’s solo acoustic album, you can see an acoustic version of “Are You Happy Lately,” which shows the writing process in its full form and how it was turned into a hard-hitting full track that hits like a long-needed trip to the dispensary.
Across eight songs, the album leans into gritty guitars, emotional volatility, and reflections on growing older, past wounds, and figuring out who you are. What stands out most is how naturally the band blends punk power with Cam’s vulnerable storytelling, giving each track its own identity while still feeling cohesive. All I can say is, if they played my house party, it’d probably turn into something from Project X.
The album opens with Fragmentary, driven by beautifully gritty guitar melodies that sound like they were recorded in a garage. The full guitars sit perfectly with the chill, layered vocals, creating a balance where everything feels blasted but still intimate. Lyrically, lines like “Coffee gone colder and I’m getting older,” “I can’t catch a break or a tan,” and “Please hear me out, I need a hailmary” reflect exhaustion, growth, and looking back at childhood. The 6/8 rhythm that is sometimes accented like 4/4 keeps it fresh. The minimal drum opening that grows into a wall of sound sets the tone for everything that follows; an amazing track to start the album.
Nightmare starts soft with guitar and chill vocals before exploding into distortion and energetic grooves. The lyrics paint dramatic scenes of driving off a cliff, tsunamis, and shotguns – all tied to feelings of life going nowhere. Accented rhythms glue the band together, and the slightly out-of-tune guitars work perfectly for the punk edge. It’s easy to imagine a movie scene of someone flying down a highway, trying desperately to get what they need.
Baby Girl feels like the anthem of a broken child longing for love: “‘Cause I can’t feed myself 3 times a day.” The bass and vocals highlight each other, and the “oooohs” sound like being defeated but still moving forward. The wavy, chorusy guitar at the end ties everything together, and the second-half breakdown gives it grit. It’s grungy, honest, and ends perfectly – leaving you wanting to relisten.
On Flat Tire, the imagery of a cold room needing a body’s warmth pairs with the repetition of “why don’t you go,” building tension until everything bursts open at the end. Somebody Died centres on misconnection with lines like “You only call me when somebody died.” The shaker in the sparse section is a standout choice, and the call-and-response vocals deepen the emotion.
Menace brings folky elements that can feel a bit like The Cranberries in its vocal inflexions. Lines like “I’m sorry you weren’t loved for who you are – I love you for who you are” sit next to the explosive “I did it all on my own! AHHHH!!!” The track mirrors Flat Tire in how it builds and builds for most of the song and releases all the tension in a much-needed scream at the end.
Are You Happy Lately blends styles while calling out immaturity and self-reflection, touching on childhood freakouts, scars, weed, and thinking too much instead of doing. The mixture of vocals and backgrounds makes it feel layered.
The album closes with Katie, a reflective, singable track about someone who feels like the sister that I always wanted (Who’s scarily also named Kate lol). The guitar melody is a total jam, and the memories – ditching school, toolbag boyfriends, missing her voice – make it a lovely closer.
Not Your Babe delivers a debut that is raw, honest, danceable, and deeply human. It’s apparent that it’s no one’s first time around the block. Cam is well seasoned in her lyrics, and the band meshes together very well, especially in this lo-fi setting. I hope to catch a show of theirs sometime in the future. An easy 8/10.
Written by John Drifter (drifting.)
