On the prelude to Miley Cyrus’ forthcoming album Something Beautiful, the pop icon puts on her best impression of Laurie Anderson— though not absent her sultry, Southern drawl. She waxes poetic on the ephemeral, the way one’s “hands can’t save the things that have already been dissolved into air,” over a Phillip Glass-like composition. I was not entirely surprised to find out that Cole Haden received songwriting credits, whose lyricism as frontman for Model/Actriz toes the line between divine and pretentious. In the no-space between the divine and the pretentious is the confessional, which Haden happens to invoke on the clubby, clamoring “Cinderella.” Upon entering a party at Bushwick, Haden recounts his first moment of diva worship in which he felt compelled to embody the eponymous princess at his 6th birthday party. Wearing the gown and glass slipper leads to a reckoning: “And when the moment came, and I changed my mind / I was quiet, alone, and, devastated.” I am reminded of the first time I watched the music video for Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball” on my home computer, stretching the replay to eternity as if to convince my grandmother, standing in the doorframe, that I was possessed by something that was beyond her control to rid of. Haden’s storytelling provides a moment of vulnerability which transcends the floral metaphors and referential soundscapes of debut Dogsbody (2023).
From Haden’s proclamation of feeling “starved for the dramaturgy” on opener “Vespers” to the melancholic spoken-word soliloquy of “Headlights” bookending the first and second half of the record, Pirouette’s play-like structure displays the quartet’s desire to pivot into high-concept territory. The hook that appears on “Doves” (“I make a rapture out of / waiting, waiting”) is so terse, Haden’s falsetto so fragile as to suggest its ultimate negation—and later does exactly that, unleashing a maelstrom of mechanical stirs and screeches. A less-than-great moment appears on “Departures,” a paean to all that he finds great strength in– including Jesus, Demi Moore, and the state of Delaware– calling out for them to embody him. What appears as poignant is, upon closer inspection, an idea that was fleshed out previously on Dogsbody, when the band paid homage to the performance art of Lady Gaga and Marina Abramović on “Crossing Guard” in a similar fashion. Never mind the electromüsiking of “Ring Road,” Ruben Radlauer’s fervent drumming channeling the throbbing grooves of Australian punk outfit SPK to the point of excess. Though with the “Hotel California”-esque ballad “Acid Rain,” it’s tough not to be completely enamored when Haden, depicting a relationship gone awry, repeatedly whispers “I believe in you.” On the surface, his despairing intonation is directed at an estranged lover. It could be, too, as if he’s confiding in the listener to regard this apocryphal well beyond the headphones. Not exactly a grand jeté, Pirouette proves to be a solid addition to the band’s fledgling discography.
Listen to: Cinderella, Acid Rain, Poppy
