Growing Up Without Growing Apart beabadoobee Finds Comfort in the Unknown: Pylon Album Review
By Aiden Richards
Pylon is the fifth studio album by beabadoobee, and it feels like stepping into a world that is both nostalgic and completely new. With Pylon, Beabadoobie makes it clear she has, “Nothing To Prove” as she establishes her place in the alternative rock genre collaborating with the greats, such as Hayley Williams on the previously mentioned track, “Nothing To Prove”.
There’s something about beabadoobee’s music that has always felt incredibly lived-in. Her songs can sound effortless on the surface while carrying so much underneath them, and Pylon continues that feeling. For example “Memories” leans more into that nostalgia vibe while “Write me a letter” feels more close and vulnerable. It’s an album that doesn’t seem interested in being perfect; it feels messy in the best possible way, like real life. What stood out most is how much personality lives inside this album. There’s a warmth to it that makes these songs feel familiar, even on the first listen. The guitars, melodies and softer moments all come together in a way that feels distinctly beabadoobee without simply repeating what she’s done before.
Pylon also feels like an album about growing into yourself. “Memories” looks backward, “Switchblade” wrestles with uncertainty, “Pylon” explores romance and connection, and “Powerlines” featuring Turnstile’s Brendan Yates feels more reflective. There’s nostalgia, uncertainty, romance and reflection woven throughout it, but it never feels like it’s trying to neatly explain any of those emotions. Instead, it lets them exist together. Sometimes growing up means knowing exactly what you want, and sometimes it means realizing you have absolutely no idea.
That’s what makes this album so easy to connect with. It doesn’t feel like beabadoobee is speaking from some distant place where everything has already been figured out. It feels like she’s right there in the middle of it, trying to understand herself just like the rest of us. There’s a certain comfort in the album, it’s the kind of record that could accompany a late-night drive, walking around with headphones on, or sitting somewhere doing absolutely nothing and letting the album fill the silence. It doesn’t demand your attention, but the more attention you give it, the more you find.
beabadoobee has made an album that feels nostalgic without being stuck in the past. Pylon is warm, imperfect, personal and beautifully human. It feels like another chapter in her story, but also like a collection of moments that listeners can quietly make their own.


