Listeners may recognize Zoë Pete Ford from some such illuminated, genuinely killer acts as Friendly Company (drums and vocals) and Big Garden (drums, guitar, keys), both based in Brooklyn, NY. If so, forget that. “One of the Guys” is a sound entirely Ford’s own. 

Fans of Suzi Quatro will quickly find that Ford blows straight past Suzi Cinco and turns up the VU knob to a blistering Suzi Diez. Which is not to say that “One of the Guys” is a faithful reimagination of any existing work. But that Ford picks up where The Anemic Boyfriends and Linda Manz in “Out of the Blue” left off and keeps the good work going – labor that demands strong shoulders. She’s got ‘em. 

“One of the Guys” brims with songs about debauched bootleggers and cars with bad gas mileage. Ford arrives at some strange, sacred intersection that is at once playful and deadly serious. In return, listeners on the other side of the exchange are left drenched in cowboy perfume and desperate to believe that we are more than the sum of our urges. Assemble your most world-ragged friends, or a coupla wayfarers on a Wednesday – this one’s for audiences who are ideologically opposed to the nutrient shake. Ford has done the impossible by forging identity and tipping the scales in under an hour. 

Any attempt to pigeonhole “One of the Guys” is to betray a dewy-eyed misunderstanding (or inability to understand) what the record is about. Zoë Pete Ford sings with a voice polite but not friendly. She has not come lightly to the wax. This is evidenced immediately by “Mint Juleps,” the opening track (and your reporter’s favorite on the record): “If you were a place you’d be a shopping mall. So scared to ever say a plain thing, wind up saying nothing at all. I might be Humphrey Bogart, but baby, you’re no Lauren Bacall. I wish I had a Ford Ranchero, wish I sang like Nat King Cole, wish I had a little money in my wallet. Sweatin this job that’s suckin my soul. I wanna drink mint juleps. I wanna play the leading role.” Our Holy Orator bites into every lyric with teeth like a waxy-eyed zen koan on speed. Ford has penned the breathless antidote to 2025’s influx of reactionary chickenshit fad muzak, dullsville and flabby (which, alack, has infiltrated even “the cool scenes” of America’s major cities). No modern bloat here, officer.

For the uninitiated, songs like Ford’s “Backseat Beauty Queen” may act as a guide into some altered way of living. (Your reporter has been lucky enough to walk the subterranean rock beside our Hero.) After a guitar lick straight out of “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly,” the tale begins, “Adam and Eve were seventeen. He was dealing coke and weed, she was his customer and backseat beauty queen […] on weeknights underneath the oak tree, the smoke and shadows of sex and nosebleeds.” Ford isn’t just an unassailably Cool Girl, she’s also a Master Storyteller – and, indeed, storytelling songs are sorely missing from today’s radio. Ford spins macabre yarns that the kids can dance to. 

The record shines brightest in the moments where its authorial voice is at once man and woman, driver and passenger. “Over the Line” paints, “She’s equal parts ventriloquist, sorceress, and alchemist. She buys you drinks when you see her at the bar. Then she makes you hesitate when she racks the shots and makes you wait for the dozen other people she’s got in her pocket that night.” Caught your breath yet? “Saturn” confronts us with another American Gothic vignette: “He drives a hatchback Saturn, she doesn’t have a license. She told me, ‘Oh, he doesn’t mind driving me around town all the time. And besides, why would I get a license with Saturn by my side?’” The sense of becoming a victim of someone else’s fantasy. Once you get over it (or find some way to cope with it), nod tough and light a shag rollie (I checked and that’s what Zoë smokes. She also used to smoke Marlboros, if you can’t roll your own. I can’t). This writer dares you to put on “Mean Reds” (track seven) when your feet first hit the floor in the morning and watch how your internal ecosystem sharpens throughout the day, An off-balance but no-less-nourishing breakfast. 

With “One of the Guys,” it takes Zoë Pete Ford just 29 minutes to convince listeners that “acting like you’ve never broken a pact before” is no way to live. How long does it take you?

You can listen to “One of the Guys” anywhere you find your music, as well as purchase them digitally on bandcamp.

Written by Autumn Swiers