Words by Jake Pearson
Throughout her now-four-album-strong career, beabadoobee has always kept her audience guessing her next move. As an artist, she relishes quicksilver genre switches, from the youthful alternative-rock of her debut release Fake It Flowers to the whimsical, dreamy folk-pop of 2022’s Beatopia and This Is How Tomorrow Moves’ polished pop sound. Her latest offering, Pylon, sees the London-based singer-songwriter return to her nineties-inspired rock roots, armed with a voltage of idol-collaborators and palpable emo influences.
As has become custom in beabadoobee’s catalogue (see 2023’s ‘The Way Things Go’), her latest direction was teased to fans with a standalone single release. Back in March, ‘All I Did Was Dream Of You’ gave fans an early taster of the sizzling guitars and direct lyricism that would become the focal point of Pylon’s musical identity; its hook was “stay or just leave me be”, presumably expressing the inner voice of an artist that desired to move forward. Working in collaboration with LA dream-pop band The Marías, the single also provided a predictive insight towards the intensely collaborative nature of Pylon. The album credits make for impressive reading, including Title Fight guitarist Shane Moran as co-writer, alongside individual contributions from Hayley Williams, Pinegrove’s Evan Stephens Hall and Brendan Yates, the frontman of Turnstile.
History has told us that no supergroup exists free of internal conflict. It is no wonder then, with Pylon’s stellar collection of contemporary alternative rock collaborators, that conflict sits at its very heart. Like the implied finality of lead single ‘Sun Has Set’, in which she provocatively shrugs off a former relationship with a “fuck that, you can never run back to me now”, the album’s opener and title track kicks off in conflict between the remnants of past beabadoobee and her desire for a new sound. The soft, yearning vocals of Beatopia emerge out of background laughter, before dissonant sounds bring to mind fourth-wave emo bands and Sonic Youth, all as Beatrice Laus wrestles with inhabiting places of increasing unfamiliarity.
Unfortunately, the album’s attempt to marry these two influences often becomes its own downfall. The ambitious, and successful coexistence of crashing guitars with drums that recall the work of emo icon Andrew Weigl on Marietta’s Summer Death and the Skinned Teen–esque basslines are consistently undermined by beabadoobee’s reluctance to offer the vocal performances to match. Of the fourteen-strong tracklist, only ‘Sun Has Set’ and ‘In Motion’ truly show the full potential of the abrasive, provocative vocals the instrumentals deserve, ultimately leaving listeners frustrated with such a small sample size of what Pylon could’ve been.
Pylon as a title is rooted in beabadoobee’s personal search for familiarity and connection while touring America, with electric pylons being the only constant in an endless, ever-changing landscape. Within the album, she seeks familiarity through her own favourite musicians but often loses herself along the way. Even listeners entering blind would recognise the influence of Pinegrove on ‘Spark’ inside a few chords, with the track sounding more like a beabadoobee feature than an original. Historic collaborators and fellow Dirty Hit veterans Matty Healy and George Daniel return to produce ‘Write Me A Letter’, adding a distinct Drive Like I Do flavour rather than the influence of The 1975 apparent on Beatopia. Ultimately, these processes pose the question: can beabadoobee truly begin to form her own style with this level of collaboration?
As a shift in sonic direction often necessitates, beabadoobee clearly needs time to hone in her next sound. However, with her previous albums expressing a desire for fluctuation over maturation, Pylon may be left as an undercurrent in her catalogue. At best, this is a solid release that will serve as a platform to establish a consistent vision across future releases. At worst, Pylon is an underdeveloped attempt to ride the returning waves of emo and grunge-influenced rock, left to be sat on a discographic island of unexplored potential, as beabadoobee chases yet another sound, and only half-catches it.
