Jehnny Beth
– To Love Is to Live
Jehnny Beth’s To Love Is to Live is a fearless and evocative solo debut, released in 2020, that pushes boundaries both musically and thematically. Known for her work with Savages, Beth explores deeply personal themes of vulnerability, power, and identity, crafting an album that is as unsettling as it is cathartic.
The production, featuring collaborations with Atticus Ross and others, weaves together industrial beats, haunting melodies, and dramatic orchestration, creating a soundscape that feels both intimate and expansive.
The album’s dynamic range, from sparse, spoken-word moments to explosive crescendos, mirrors the complexity of its themes, touching on humanity’s darker edges while celebrating resilience and emotional depth. Beth’s commanding vocal presence amplifies the album’s raw intensity, making it a visceral and immersive listening experience.
To Love Is to Live is not just an album—it’s a bold artistic statement, blending avant-garde experimentation with profound emotional resonance. Its fearless exploration of self and sound makes it one of the standout releases of its era.
Choice Tracks
I Am
This is the thesis—half prayer, half threat. Spoken-word delivery over ticking time-bomb ambiance. A declaration of identity through fear, lust, and contradiction. It dares you to keep listening.
Innocence
Rips like Nine Inch Nails with eyeliner and a bloody lip. Industrial groove meets breathless vocal panic. Beth’s voice claws at the edges. It’s both seductive and suffocating.
Flower
A haunting love letter to obsession. Minimalist, poetic, and intimate to the point of discomfort. Her delivery is tender and trembling, as if the words might collapse under their own weight.
We Will Sin Together
Gorgeous and grotesque. A slow-burning hymn to desire’s darker corners. The synths swell like a rising tide and Beth sings like she’s confessing to someone already gone.
Heroine
Noise-rock venom with glam overtones. It’s confrontational and chaotic, with drums that punch holes in the mix. Beth stands at the center like a storm dressed in velvet.
French Countryside
The comedown. Piano, stillness, and a melody that aches like a fresh scar. It’s a song you don’t expect this album to allow—delicate and wide open.
Jehnny Beth—once the snarling force behind Savages—builds her solo debut like a cathedral to vulnerability and menace. It doesn’t beg for attention. It stalks you, then crumbles in your arms. Where Savages exhaled rage through a post-punk filter, this album cracks open something rawer, more private, and far more unsettling.
Beth doesn’t care for genre lines here. The record shape-shifts—from industrial throb to spoken word confessional, from cinematic balladry to thundering synth assaults. One moment she’s channeling Nick Cave in a fever dream, the next she’s whispering secrets like a friend who might vanish mid-sentence. The production—thanks to a rotating cast including Atticus Ross and Flood—refuses polish. Every sound feels cracked, scorched, breathing heavily in your ear.
Lyrically, Beth dives into sex, mortality, shame, power, and that pesky search for grace in the middle of wreckage. Her voice is commanding even when fragile, like someone who knows the walls are closing in and lights a match anyway. It’s not a comforting listen, but it’s compelling as hell. To Love Is to Live doesn’t offer resolution. It offers confrontation. And it makes you grateful for the bruises it leaves behind.