The Beths’ ‘Straight Line Was a Lie’ Made Me Think I Like Them Less Than I Do
I’ve been waiting for some time for The Beths to make a second great album. An unfortunate truth is that up to this point, they’ve been primarily a singles band. Their deep cuts generally land on 2020’s “Jump Rope Gazers,” but for the most part the litmus test for a great song from The Beths was if it got a music video, with ~85% accuracy. “Straight Line Was a Lie” is an album that leaves little impact and has little to offer. Listening to it at its worst, and sometimes even at its best, makes me question if The Beths were ever actually good to begin with.
Revisiting their older material, I can confirm that yes, they were good. The appeal isn’t hard to rediscover: for one, thanks to their quad vocalist roster, only so many bands could pull off melody/countermelody/harmony songwriting without overdubs the way they do. Beyond that, the band’s earnest demeanor, centered on its titular lead songwriter and vocalist Elizabeth Stokes, gives them an understated, almost underdog charm. Lyrically, they historically strike a strong balance of clever concepts (“Expert in a Dying Field” is an achievement and an all-time relationship metaphor) and adorable quaintness (“You Wouldn’t Like Me”). And finally, it shows in their songs that they’re audibly well-studied in multiple rock traditions, and god dammit, the hooks are good.
So… what went wrong on “Straight Line Was a Lie?” Why is it so boring? Did they just run out of ideas? Lyrically, it doesn’t seem so. The existential wonder of “Metal,” the vulnerability of “Mother, Pray for Me,” and even the ‘I’m-surprised-I’ve-never-heard-this-metaphor-before’ of “Mosquitoes” all stand as fruitful, untrodden conceptual ground. There’s no excuse there. But if not there, then why does this album just not click? Why does it feel so insulting?
If The Beths shine in their singles, then let’s take the singles.
“Metal,” the lead single, deals more in atmosphere and impression than anything else. A cynical description would be that it’s a track where, proudly, nothing happens for 5 minutes while they waffle about the wonders of life’s existence in arbitrary detail. I empathize with that position, but in truth the song’s melodic strength is up to par enough that it vibes its way through for me. The progression of the track into the final chorus, while a subtle slow burn that doesn’t exactly burn the brightest by the end, works for me. It remains an inessential contribution to the canon of modern popular music, but earns its spot in one’s library just fine.
“No Joy” is a confusing track. Embracing grunge to capture struggling with desensitization on SSRIs, it’s a banger that doesn’t bang. The biggest problem is that the hook just isn’t there. It’s not catchy, and considering the stripped down aesthetic of much of the track, that is an unforgivable problem. The inclusion of recorders in the song’s goober bridge is a fun touch, but it doesn’t do much to elevate an already middling track. This is a recurring theme of the album, but it feels like all of the components of a good song are here, without the good song.
“Mother, Pray for Me” is clearly the album’s strongest song. It’s a minimalist, deeply emotional, and honest plea from Stokes to her mother, asking if they can find a way to reconnect. It’s so small, but from that intimacy comes power. The fact that, for her, to simply admit lines like
“I would like to know you and I want you to know me
Do we still have time, can we try?
Mother, pray for me”
is a clearly difficult admission and comes from her soul? That is wonderfully earnest and, at its best, goosebump-inducing. Like, to be clear, Stokes is in her 30s, so unless her mom is terminally ill of course there’s still time to rebuild that relationship. That childish emotionality is the beauty of the track. That being said, the track definitely pushes its luck, for example rhyming “me” with itself 3 times in one verse.
“Mother, don’t cry for me
I have done enough injury
I wanted to hurt you for the hurt you made in me
And I know that I‘m why you cried
Mother, pray for me”
Again, the almost childish simplicity works, I think? But it makes me have to ask if I’m giving the song a pass for it while I’m listening. That is a problem. Still, though, the band deserves credit for the rare feat on this album of doing something that’s, for them, aesthetically novel.
I have almost nothing to say about the rest of the album’s songs in specific. They feel like simulacrums of good music rather than just being actually good music. “Til My Heart Stops” has the most potential of any deep cuts here, but there’s something annoying about it, and it never unlocks its own potential. The song structures have been set up to goad the muses, like Woodstock desperate to get Bob Dylan to show up by coming to his backyard, but the muses simply didn’t arrive. And there’s no proverbial Santana or Joe Cocker or Jimi Hendrix or CCR or Sly or CSNY on “Straight Line Was a Lie.”
To the band’s credit, though, the fact that out of four albums, only their second album is worth your time from front to back, is strong evidence to the straight line indeed being a lie.
