The Singles Jukebox

Your editor wishes we covered “Bobby” by Beabadoobee, because “‘Bobby’ by Beabadoobee” is more fun to say and the title is less loaded.

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Kylo Nocom: Describing this as an example of the trite canonization of rock legends would be an easy takeaway, but the lyrics imply something much smarter. Prior to this, Beabadoobee was making hazy “bedroom pop,” the kind that draws ire for perceived lack of authenticity and algorithmic panic. In 2019, this scene is losing starpower fast, and there now exists a need for them to establish themselves beyond the twee of their DeMarco-isms. Clairo’s transition to lusher production from bedroom pop aesthetics was brilliant, but the discourse on Immunity had an irritating focus on The Guy from Vampire Weekend making the Industry Plant good. Beabadoobee’s evocation of Malkmus is symbolic for the same reasons, but nobody can misinterpret the narrative she wants to put forth: “I wanted change, no one forced it.” She understands the power of image, and she makes out indie rock-isms to be as temporary as dyed hair. Her adoration of Pavement is authentic but never willfully conservative; I don’t hear “God, give me Dan Bejar’s voice” but rather a sly wink at those who understand that all that separates pop with an indie rock façade from true indie rock is if the video gets put on Vevo. If my interpretation is off-base, so be it. She’s far outdone her hero just by knowing how to write a hook.
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Alfred Soto: “Have you heard Beabadoobee?” a student asked today. Now this song appears twelve hours after my first listen. I like the concept: oblique nod to “Cut Your Hair,” although only a fan of Stephen Malkmus and his fabulous pre-1995 hair would care so much about inserting lines about hair dye around vocals as kittenish as his at his best and a guitar racket. 
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Alex Clifton: Having “your brand is shit” immediately followed with the line “you’re up your butt” is strangely charming, the teenage jadedness that sees through all fakery combined with the rage of a childish insult. That’s about as much as I’ve got to differentiate Beabadoobee from her peers; her music recalls Snail Mail, Mitski, and Let’s Eat Grandma, but I’ve yet to figure who she is. “I Wish I Was Stephen Malkmus” runs a little long and gets repetitive after a while, but Beabadoobee sounds like she’s got a knack for drawing out the right emotions in a song.
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Julian Axelrod: Pavement’s never been my thing  — too unfocused, too atonal, too up its own butt (to steal a phrase from our subject) for my liking. But I love a good hero worship anthem, and Bea Kristi’s side-eyed writing refracts her idol’s most obnoxious traits through a distinctly Gen Z lens to create a squalling ode to insularity. Whereas Malkmus gleefully denies his audience simple pleasures, Beabadoobee sounds exhausted by her relentless search for satisfaction. (1999’s “slacker” is 2019’s “unemployed”.) In a brutal twist, she finds herself falling for a boy who embodies the worst traits of the man she admires. They say you should never meet your heroes, so becoming them is the next best thing.
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Iain Mew: I’m old and I don’t care about Pavement, which might be perfect for listening to this (also I loved “She Plays Bass.”). I don’t know how true to them it is, but she makes easing into its detached ramble sound both fresh and like there never could have been any other way.
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Ian Mathers: I genuinely can’t decide if I find this annoying or catchy, but it kind of feels like that’s what she’s going for? 
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