With louder guitars and a rougher edge, Nicotine Dolls sound more like the rock band they’ve always wanted to be on their unapologetic self-titled sophomore album. Speaking with Atwood Magazine, frontman Sam Cieri reveals why the band scrapped an entire album to get here, then takes us track by track through the deeply personal stories behind its twelve songs.

Stream: “Gimme Sympathy” – Nicotine Dolls

Long before Sam Cieri was leaving jaws on the floor at sold-out venues across Europe and North America, he was a teenager growing up within earshot of Disney World’s fireworks,

wearing out his copy of Get Out and Rock. Even then, he felt an insatiable pull toward that sound, as if some part of him already knew where he belonged.

The compilation CD sparked a lifelong connection to rock, introducing him to artists he’d one day join onstage and in the studio – from Switchwood to members of Aerosmith’s creative circle.

You can hear those influences on Nicotine Dolls, the band’s self-titled sophomore record, co-produced by Cieri and Marti Frederiksen, known for his work with Aerosmith, Ozzy Osbourne and other major rock acts.

“I just wanted to get back to that original intention of being in a rock band,” Cieri says on a late-night call from a tour bus in Germany. “We’ve never done anything where everyone in the room was so on board with what we were doing because we weren’t making a record for anyone but us. That was a big thing with this record. When it was done, we were just so proud of it and proud of the risk.”

It seems fitting that the night after playing a bunker in Hamburg – one of the final stops on their first headlining tour in Europe – the conversation turns to destruction and survival.

A three-time Atwood Magazine Editor’s Pick and longtime artist-to-watch, Nicotine Dolls spent the past year reshaping its lineup and rethinking its sound. Frontman Cieri and longtime drummer Abel Tabares welcomed guitarist John Newsome after the departures of guitarist John Hays and bassist John Merritt. The band’s pivot meant scrapping a fully completed sophomore album and leaving behind the ’90s pop-leaning love songs and sweeping anthems of its debut LP, An Attempt at Romantic, for a return to the guitar-driven rock that inspired them from the start.

“The funny thing is we put one record out and a couple of EPs, and I think when you listen to all of the music, you can hear a band trying to figure out what the f*** they’re doing or who they are,” says Cieri. “This is the first record that I feel we actually planted our flag and said, ‘This is what we are.’”

For Cieri (singer, songwriter, producer and multi-instrumentalist), the shift wasn’t about disowning what came before so much as finding a sound that felt more representative of the band he formed in early 2018.

“I’m really proud of the stuff that we’ve done up till this point. I just don’t think that it carried all of us, and I don’t think that it represented a band just kind of doing their own thing.”

Cieri and Tabares have always brought an obsessive level of musicianship and dedication to the band, and both have stepped up as its sound has evolved.

On this record, Tabares plays like someone who’s learned all the rules and is now giving himself room to show a more ferocious side of his drumming – hitting with the kind of force that feels like it’s been waiting to come out, while Cieri has pushed himself as a vocalist and songwriter. He still has the range, rasp and intensity that define his vocals, but there’s more grit to his delivery, matched by heavier guitars. You can hear shades of Jack White and Steven Tyler, along with a little bluesy-rock era Joe Cocker.

With Newsome joining the lineup – and throwing himself so completely into a guitar solo during recording that he played through bleeding fingers – the band found a new gear, like an engine finally hitting its stride.

Leading with “Enemy,” a fiery track that makes it clear Cieri isn’t interested in playing the villain in someone else’s story, was an intentional way to signal the shift in sound.

“People are going to listen to a song like ‘Enemy’ and then go listen to our music and hear the cover of ‘Simply the Best’ and be like, ‘What the f**k is this band?’” he says. “And I think that is something that people should prepare themselves for. If you go back and listen to the other stuff, it’s not like this.”

It started with “Here to California,” a track Cieri had already written and wanted to explore its potential with the right collaborators. Around that time, hit songwriter Desmond Child, known for his work with Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, reached out to Nicotine Dolls’ management about collaborating. The two connected, and Child suggested bringing in Frederiksen, whose work with some of rock’s biggest names made him a natural fit. The song became the starting point for everything that followed.

Frederiksen didn’t waste time sugarcoating his thoughts about the song.

“The first thing he says is ‘I like some of it, but why are you such a weak little show boy?’ And I almost threw up,” Cieri recalls. “What he hammered into me over that session was that I was too passive in my writing. He said, ‘If you’re going to get into this ring, you need to start standing up for yourself.’ And I think I carried that through the record.”

The lesson wasn’t just to turn everything up. It was to stop pulling punches in the way they approached the music. Lyrically, the album gets into sex, toxic relationships, old wounds, family fallout and the general weirdness of being alive right now. Grief, frustration and vulnerability run through it all, with Cieri drawing on some pretty personal experiences along the way.

They explore all the corners and crevices of rock, from the full-on, middle-finger energy of “Enemy” to the sultry blues swagger of “Going Numb.” Then there are the softer moments with songs like “Here to California” and “I’m Right Here,” both of which have that cinematic feel that would make them right at home in a movie soundtrack.

That more intimate side of the songwriting takes on a different weight on “Wanted You to Know,” the closing track, which deals with Cieri’s father, who left when he was nine. The heavier sound doesn’t diminish the weight of the subject matter; if anything, it gives the song an added intensity.

“It was very risky to put it on the record for me emotionally, but as a song, it goes so hard,” he says. “We’ve had a lot of fun with the songs that are heavier; you can kind of thrash around a little bit.”

One line, in particular, gets him every time: “No matter what you say, no matter what you do, you can’t erase me.”

“It’s a simple line. It’s nothing too witty or anything like that, but when it hits in the song, it always strikes something for me.”

Not everyone has been sold on the change. Some listeners have called the band posers, a reaction Cieri seems to find more funny than upsetting.

“I think the only time that you do anything interesting is when you scare yourself. This record is the scariest thing we’ve ever done,” he says. “Some people have come out and called us f***ing posers, which is fair. I get that. I think it’s hilarious because this was what we originally wanted. You can call us posers for older stuff. That’s totally fine. I’ll f***ing take that. But this is the most authentic that we’ve been.”

Experience the full record via our below stream, and peek inside Nicotine Dolls with Atwood Magazine as Sam Cieri takes us track-by-track through the music and lyrics of Nicotine Dolls’ self-titled sophomore album!

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:: stream/purchase Nicotine Dolls here ::

:: connect with Nicotine Dolls here ::

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Stream: ‘Nicotine Dolls’ – Nicotine Dolls

:: Inside Nicotine Dolls ::

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“Wild”

If I could be more discreet, I would be, but this is as simply put as possible. It’s about really, really good sex. The who of it all is what I’ll keep to myself.

“Gimme Sympathy”

This is a chaotic depiction of the leeches I’ve encountered in my life. People I have considered friends but allowed them to exploit that relationship for their own agenda.

“Here to California”

A Springsteen-esque call to grab her by the hand and run away to a place (when you grew up on the east coast) that feels entirely romantic. California always felt like that to me. This is meant to be listened to in a convertible at sunset.

“To the Wolves”

Simple and haunting, this is one of the more self-reflective moments on the album. It’s my relationship to this job. Every release is like a sacrifice to something that you could survive, or it could eat you alive.

“Drive Away”

Inspired by crooner style longing of songs from the 50s, it paints the picture of someone at the end of their rope constantly waiting for that person to come back to them. Pulled from the constant on and off of a past relationship.

“Little Games”

Almost a direct comeback to “Drive Away” this is me standing up for my own worth. I may want to be with you but I’m not going to lose myself to do it. You are either in or out.

“Punch Drunk Lovin’”

Refusing to leave the situation no matter how many times you end up hurt can leave you in a dazed state of acceptance. Like a boxer barely standing in the ring but refusing to defend himself.

“I’m Right Here”

This one started as one thing and in recording the whole meaning changed. I feel like it is less about romantic love and more about feeling lost when those in our lives that feel like home are gone.

“Wanted You to Know”

The story of my biological father. One I hope he hears one day. This song is everything I want him to hear from me.

“Going Numb”

We aren’t meant to scroll through dance videos then images of people being gunned down halfway across the world and then a video of a seal doing backflips. This constant overstimulation of everything all at once ends up stripping us of any real sense of awareness.

“Enemy”

I had someone blow their life up and then turn around and blame me. There was so much bitterness and eroding of a relationship I once held very close. I refuse to take on the role of somebody’s scapegoat just because they refuse to take accountability for the carnage they left behind.

“Just Enough”

Swagger painted over bittersweet desire. She knew how to keep me trailing behind her. It’s a dangerous thing to not just want someone but feel like you need them. It’s always harder when they always keep you on the hook without ever pulling you in.

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:: stream/purchase Nicotine Dolls here ::

:: connect with Nicotine Dolls here ::

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 © Travis Shinn

Nicotine Dolls

an album by Nicotine Dolls