On Pylon, Beabadoobee Bares Her Teeth
I was thoroughly taken aback while first watching the music video for Pylon’s lead single “Sun Has Set”: in a fit of rage, Beatrice Laus (known on stage as beabadoobee) smashes in a car’s windshield with a golf club while lyrically ripping apart a person she’s severed ties with. This is a complete 180 from “I guess I’m just the bigger guy,” in the chorus of 2023’s “the way things go”—in “Sun Has Set,” beabadoobee exclaims “fuck that!”
Pylon finds the 26-year-old Filipino-British singer-songwriter at her rawest and most petty, unafraid to brandish the most unruly of emotions. Title Fight’s Shane Moran contributes guitar throughout the album, balancing distorted riffs with shimmering harmonics (such as on the rousing aforementioned single “Sun Has Set”). Lyrically, Laus walks a similar line, balancing brutal honesty with a concise polish; despite nine of the album’s 14 tracks running below three minutes, each song leaves a distinct emotional impression.
Without mincing any words, the opening track “Pylon” launches into the aches of a long-distance relationship, with beabadoobee singing, “I’d rather be nowhere with you / Than somewhere without you.” Her delicate falsetto is complemented by soft acoustic guitar and cello which swell into a grungy electric finale. Sweet sentiments about inseparable love are soon replaced by a more resentful subject matter on “Estranged.” An indie-pop earworm reminiscent of the highlights of her sophomore outing Beatopia (2022), “Estranged” paints the tale of a romance crumbling as she feels increasingly alienated and unheard. The song cheerfully shrugs off Laus’s toxic cycle of break-ups and reconciliation, gloating, “But something keeps you coming back to me,” at the end of each chorus. Sandwiched between “Pylon” and “Estranged” on the tracklist, “Sun Has Set” is the rage-fueled bridge between infatuation and sardonic acceptance, positioned as the album’s second stage of grief. Aggressive and visceral, beabadoobee constructs the perfect pre-chorus for envisioning that certain “Fake and affected / Scared of rejection / Lackin’ direction” person you hate the most. With its high replayability and unapologetic fury, “Sun Has Set” makes for a cathartic head-banger of a lead single, though much of the album is decidedly less virulent.
Pylon feels like a homecoming for the singer, as beabadoobee collaborates with many of the alt-rock influences she emulated in her earlier works, like 2020’s angsty Fake It Flowers. Despite evolving from a teenager posting acoustic bedroom-pop on YouTube to a world-touring star, beabadoobee has not forgotten her grunge-infused roots. Title Fight’s Shane Moran, Paramore’s Hayley Williams, Deftones’s Chino Moreno, Pinegrove’s Evan Stephens Hall, and Turnstile’s Brendan Yates all leave their fingerprints on Pylon, as beabadoobee grows from merely idolizing the frontrunners of alternative rock to now creating alongside them.
Unfortunately, her work with Williams on “Nothing To Prove” falters. My least favorite on the album, its lyrics fall short of any real depth, singing vaguely, “You want it, I got it, I flaunt it, you need it.” In a sort of “take that!” to critics, beabadoobee and Williams assert their artistic freedom and indifference to others’ approval, though Williams’ powerhouse vocals are disappointingly relegated to repeating “la la la” throughout the chorus.
One of the more successful collaborations is the moody “Powerlines,” featuring Yates on backing vocals. Their voices blend seamlessly, exploring the invisible connection between beabadoobee and her lover in the song. A drug-like attachment (“you’re ecstasy”) keeps Laus craving more of the song’s subject, and in her haze, she starts to believe that even mundane powerlines lead back to them.
Despite the strength of its explosive opening sequence, I believe Pylon truly excels in the middle stretch of the album. Here, beabadoobee hones in on the album’s midwest emo/alt-rock sound and its overarching themes: the confusion, emotional turmoil, and occasional ecstasy of young adulthood. “Switchblade” expresses such coming-of-age woes and disillusionment, as the singer observes, “Growing up just means to fuck everything up again.” Other gems include the upbeat “Write Me A Letter,” where the singer implores a loved one to help her make sense of her overwhelming emotions, admitting, “I know you know me more than I know myself.” Produced by The 1975’s Matty Healy and George Daniel, “Write Me A Letter” is surprisingly Fall Out Boy–esque; traces of frontman Patrick Stump’s trademark vocals can be heard in the way Laus drags the final lyric. Another standout, “In Motion,” evolves from a hypnotic ballad about perpetually running from one’s emotions to a frenzied bridge in which her anxieties come to a head, where jaded lines like “honesty is hard to come by!” are half-sung, half-screeched.
Though the tail-end of the album considerably dwindles in energy, turning tender and folksy on tracks like “Spark” and “Despite That,” the closing track “Satellite” is the album’s sonic apex. The song is a moving account of devotion amidst distance told through vignettes, as beabadoobee lovingly recounts “stolen moments on the telephone.” Laus’s near-whispered vocals glide through dusty guitar tones and subdued drums in the verses, while Moreno’s harmonies add depth in the mesmerizing “ring, ring, ring” of the pre-chorus. The song soon builds from beautiful to primal as beabadoobee unleashes her frustrated yearning in a gritty chorus, complete with shrieking and distorted guitars. “Satellite,” is an apt send-off, exemplifying the pretty-yet-crude duality which makes Pylon so compelling.
At times sweet and at others electrifying, Pylon is beabadoobee’s best work yet—a full-circle moment in the artist’s development, featuring an impressive lineup of alt-rock luminaries. Pylon is fierce and volatile, yet retains the introspective appeal that attracted fans in her early bedroom-pop days.
Rating: IND/INDY
Olivia Yafa is a freshman in the College studying Government (probably). She credits her mom with introducing her to Incubus and Jane’s Addiction at an early age.
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