Picture the scene. You’re on the open road, in the backseat as someone else drives, and you stare out the window, letting the white lines swing under the car. You’re riding off to a new place, one that you’re not sure will bring the things you want, only connected back to those you know and love through the telephone wires that criss-cross beyond the glass. You are still very young, but getting older with every passing second.
Pylon lives in a movie scene like this, and in many ways it is a recycled one. Beabadoobee is pulling heavily from what some would call a simpler time: the early to mid-aughts, specifically the rock music of that era. Despite my distaste for redoing the past, Pylon is quite a successful effort. Perhaps that’s only nostalgia talking, but impressive production and Bea’s sincerity help the album to sit better.
I was born just at the beginning of Gen Z, three years before Beabadoobee. The relativistic effect of technological advancement often makes those three years feel like a chasm, but the one thing that seems to connect Gen Z and all the generations below is a particular technological loneliness, combined with a deep ever-present anxiety about the world. No one seems to have any idea what they are doing or where they are going. Pylon connects most strongly through this particular feeling. Bea is traveling the world, always missing those who are not with her, always connected to home without the touch and feel of it. On the second verse of album closer Satellite, Bea sings these lyrics: The Beatniks had their poetry, but what do we know / Everyday doomscrolling like I’ve lost all control / I give the generation a new infatuation / If only I knew how to cope with the times. This could come across corny with all her record-label power, but more it reminds me that we all want the same things really. All of us on the younger side of life are trying to figure out what the hell to do with the world we were given.
Across Pylon Beabadoobee borrows from a wide variety of aughts sounds, ranging from the Evanescence-influenced Powerlines to the confessional emotion of the title track, reminiscent of the sad side of Avril Lavigne. It could come across scattered, but her emotive vocal tone ties it all together, sounding direct from the end credits of a romantic comedy. The moments where she leans into the emotion are the more successful ones though. When she goes towards rock, it occasionally ends up tame and held back, and her voice doesn’t carry in the way I wish it would as clearly evidenced by the comparison with Hayley Williams on Nothing to Prove. I’ll admit she has a solid scream on the aforementioned Satellite, but often I was missing a certain raw edge that would come with someone like Mitski. There is still some corporate polish that has crushed the roughest edges of the sound.
Lyrically the album stays mostly in a safe, relatable, record-label-friendly zone, with the occasional jaunt outward. There are very few people who would not relate to what she’s saying, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Currently there is a rash of specificity masquerading as authenticity in songwriting; take the many would-be clones of Phoebe Bridgers and Lizzy McAlpine as examples. Bea uses many cliches, but despite the generic nature of the lyrics, I believe her when she sings. That authenticity is hard to buy, and gold when you have it. She has one of those voices I just want to believe.
I know that if I was approximately five years younger I would have blasted this album unreservedly in my car. As I write this, I can feel some lame adult side of me trying to stop me from doing so, but fuck that. Let that younger state of mind in without shame, drive the car as fast as possible, scream the lyrics and don’t know any better.
Pylon is a comforting coat to slip on, with its held back aggression and its slightly tamped-down emotion. It’s nice to exist in this place for a little while. We’re all getting older. Why not put your feet up, and head-bang with me and Bea in the past for a little while?
Pylon is out now via Dirty Hit Records
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