Beabadoobee Knows 'This Is How Tomorrow Moves'

There comes a time in a young woman’s life when she becomes just that: a woman. More often than not, it happens rather quickly, rather messily, and mirrors the awkward bone-stretching and growing pains, both physical and emotional, that accompany any regular kind of metamorphosis. With a stint as one of Taylor Swift’s Era’s Tour opening acts and legendary producer Rick Rubin at the helm of her latest record, This Is How Tomorrow Moves, Beabadoobee is no longer dipping her toe in the pond of this dazzling mortification; her head’s totally submerged, and she’s swimming just fine. 

Only twenty years old when she released her ode-to-grunge debut, Fake It Flowers, Bea’s arrival onto the scene was hardly an arrival at all. This isn’t just an allusion to her earlier EPs; it’s a nod to her precociousness as both a writer and musician. She’s quick to take notes from both her peers and role models, though aptly sidesteps any hazard of becoming a distilled clone of either. This Is How Tomorrow Moves is an amalgamation of inspirations but rarely falls into triteness.

“Take A Bite,” the album’s lead single, finds Bea moody and desirous, her voice dipping and rising as she winkingly admits to a more toxic facet of her personality. She purrs after a lush chorus, “It gets harder to breathe / But I take it and I want it and I love when it bleeds.” It’s a theme that follows Bea throughout the record, both sonically and lyrically: the perpetual ’90s tinges, the staggering self-awareness that’s just as lacerating as it is liberating.

This introspection often gets the better of her, though not always. On the sulky, alt-rock “California,” she isn’t afraid to grumble about wanting some fucking sympathy. “Wish you could see it’s been a rough ride,” Bea admits, “I swear I tried.” On the slinky “Real Man,” her frustration with her subject persists (“I guess no one ever taught you how to be a real man,”) though she also points the knife towards herself (“I told my mother what you did like a kid.”)

But Bea hasn’t foregone the gentle ballads that shot her into the stratosphere and onto the playlists of even the most unlikely listeners (looking at you, Rob from Love Island) – not one bit. “Girl Song,” a poignant, lovely tune that finds only Bea’s lilt and no-frills keys in tandem, is Bea at her most vulnerable as she realizes these juvenile, girlish insecurities of hers aren’t so juvenile and girlish. “Coming Home” is a dear waltz that opens up briefly to a warm orchestra. “Ever Seen” is a twinkling love song with T-Swift-level earnestness plucked straight out of a ’90s coming-of-age flick. 

And though Bea’s crystalline soprano is undoubtedly pretty, her musicality thrives when she steps out of this (albeit charming) box. Her devotion to Elliott Smith is most aurally present on the delicious “One Time” as her voice hurtles towards a taunting growl, whining, “Keep on faking, just to make it / What’s the point of fixing problems?” Girl’s got a point. And the Smashing Pumpkins-esque “Post” plunges the listener back into the grunge that’s omnipresent on Fake It Flowers, with loudmouthed percussion pulsing throughout. 

These points, as well as the bossa nova “Everything I Want,” which deftly calls back to Norah Jones, are Bea at her zenith. This doesn’t go to say her more plain-spoken ballads are where she falls flat; the open-faced “The Man Who Left Too Soon” is a spectacular portrayal of out-of-place regret with little to remedy it, and the downy saxophone as well as tender lyricism on “Tie My Shoes” are some of the record’s true highlights. 

She concludes fittingly with waltz, “This Is How It Went.” It’s a suitable farewell to both an old lover and acrid scorn. She warbles a melody fit for a lullaby, referencing fellow waltz-enthusiast and perhaps her largest inspiration, Elliott Smith. It’s a simple track urging both herself and the song’s subject to find closure. It is what it is; this is just how tomorrow moves.

If Bea’s 2022 Beatopia found the singer with her head in the clouds, This Is How Tomorrow Moves sees Beabadoobee with her feet planted firmly on the ground. No longer shrouded in self-doubt, one thing’s sure: as she sings on “Ever Seen,” she’s “wound up with a purpose.” That, Bea, you have.