Exploring The Beths: ‘Straight Line Was a Lie’ Album Review

Loops, Not Ladders

Auckland’s The Beths have built their reputation on contradictions: buoyant guitar power pop shot through with lyrical unease. 

This is their fourth album, Straight Line Was a Lie. It delves deeper into that paradox, dismantling the myth of progress as a steady upward climb. Instead, it presents life as cyclical, messy, and uneven — sometimes joyful, sometimes numb, but always worth documenting.

It’s not a radical reinvention, but it’s their most emotionally resonant record yet, adding nuance and texture to the sound they’ve been refining since the release of their 2018 album, Future Me Hates Me.

Sound & Approach

The band’s hallmarks are intact: jangly guitars, airtight harmonies, Elizabeth Stokes’ crystalline vocals… but this time, there’s more layering and atmosphere. Songs drift into darker textures, while others lean on stripped-down intimacy. 

The Beths still thrive on immediacy, but the album rewards deeper listens, letting the lyrics linger long after the hooks fade.

Track-by-Track, because this band makes it fun.

1. Straight Line Was a Lie

The opening track sets the theme. Despite its neat sorta fun McCartney-esque “1,2,3,4” false start, it has propulsive guitars embodying forward motion, but Stokes insists progress is a myth (“I thought I was getting better, but I’m back to where I started, and the straight line was a circle, yeah, the straight line was a lie.”).

The mission statement: the album will circle, not climb.

2. Mosquitoes

A restless, buzzing song that lives up to its title. Here, anxiety is made insect-like: minor irritations that become unbearable when they swarm. Its twitchy guitars and relentless rhythm amplify the metaphor. “Leave me here on the stone. I’m only here to feed mosquitoes. Only skin, only blood. A little less now than there was.”

3. No Joy

The album’s most immediate single. Over an effervescent, sing-along chorus, Stokes describes the flatness of anhedonia – the inability to experience pleasure from activities that are typically found enjoyable. The juxtaposition is devastating: one of the catchiest Beths songs to date is also one of their bleakest. “All my pleasures, guilty. Clean slate looking filthy. This year’s gonna kill me, gonna kill me.”

4. Metal

Built on heavier guitars, this track uses hardness as a metaphor for emotional armor. But beneath the crunch lies a recognition that even “metal” bends under strain. A darker edge in the sequencing that keeps the album from becoming too airy. Love it.

“And I know I’m a collaboration. Bacteria, carbon, and light. A florid orchestration. A recipe of fortune and time. Yeah, it’s a lot to take in. When I try, I see a short word. I see a short word.”

5. Mother, Pray for Me

The spiritual and familial centerpiece. Stokes sings to her mother, asking for a prayer while wrestling with inherited burdens. (“Mother, say a prayer for me. I can never know what you’ve seen”). Faith is both a comfort and a weight here, the lyrics blurring the lines between love and obligation.

6. Til My Heart Stops

A surge of urgency, both romantic and existential. The song’s galloping tempo mirrors the fear of time running out, of chasing connection before it’s too late. “I wanna ride my bike in the rain. Then I want you to take me back home again. I wanna scream your name. I wanna know what I’ve got. I wanna love till my heart stops….Till my heart stops.”

One of the record’s more outward-facing moments, and very catchy.

7. Take

A quietly devastating track about how to self-erasure in relationships. The refrain “take, take, take” becomes both accusation and resignation, framed by sparse instrumentation that lets the vulnerability breathe. “It’s just about coping, I guess,” according to Stokes. (Apple Music)

8. Roundabout

The Beths on autopilot. It’s a perfectly fine slice of predictable power-pop, complete with the expected jangling guitars and layered vocal harmonies.

While intended as a pure, reassuring love song, it lacks the necessary lyrical bite and dynamic tension to stand out. It feels like the band settled for a pleasant, cyclical groove that never truly goes anywhere, serving only as agreeable background music rather than the sharp, memorable hook fans expect. It’s a textbook example of a band hitting their mark but missing the target.

9. Ark of the Covenant

Ark of the Covenant is a notable failure because it trades the band’s signature, high-energy hooks for over-produced atmosphere. The track aims for grand, unsettling complexity but ultimately sounds paralyzed by its own concept, in my opinion. It’s the sonic equivalent of the final scene from “Raiders of the Lost Ark”: you spend four minutes waiting for the big reveal, and instead of a face-melting, cathartic chorus, you just get a lot of sort of spooky smoke, noise, static, and a baffling banjo line before the song is hastily sealed away. It simply lacks the indie-pop gold The Beths usually deliver.

10. Best Laid Plans

The closer lands softly, with resignation rather than resolution. Stokes admits that maps blur, intentions collapse, and yet persistence is its own form of victory.  Musically, it’s a brilliant fusion of the band’s strengths, moving from a warm, jazzy guitar twang and lolloping bassline to a swirling, near-anthemic chorus. The lyrics, which speak of defeat yet also convey the quiet relief of letting go, are delivered with a delicate emotionality that peaks with the resigned yet beautiful plea: “Leave me lying with my best laid plans.” The extended runtime and use of elements like bongos and buried voicemail give it a cinematic, resonant feel, making it one of the most powerful and mature songs in their catalogue.

The album ends with a sigh, not a shout, which feels fitting.

Final Verdict

Straight Line Was a Lie is probably The Beths’ most mature and cohesive album yet.

It may not reinvent their sound, but it deepens it, letting themes of fragility, inheritance, and cyclical struggle resonate without losing their pop instincts. The record accepts life’s messiness and makes it singable, which is perhaps The Beths’ most incredible gift.

A luminous, deeply human record that lingers long after it ends.

Chris Garrod, September 26, 2025

Top Tier: Straight Line Was a Lie, No Joy, Metal, Best Laid Plans

Lower Tier: Roundabout, Ark of The Covenant