intruder

Beatrixwashere

Though slight in stature, beatrixwashere’s 5-track ep, Intruder, is a knotted and thoughtful work on trans identity and religion. The artists’ sophomore release holds comfortably in the space of its production, both dissonant and beautiful. Found in the bare piano that reverbs through “stockholm,” a track evoking the syndrome in which the artist struggles in her compulsive love for God. Or in the basement show echo of “roadkill’s” guitar and drum driven backing.

The unfortunate weak point to the album is the artists lack of faith in her own vocals. Too often, beatrixwashere’s singing is processed in a tinny and suffocated mixing that muffles the lyrics to the point of unintelligibility. In the moments where she amplifies, her singing fits in perfectly to the dissonance of the production, fragile, off-tune, borderline-spoken. The voice is an asset to the emotionality of the album and would greatly benefit from some more attentive mixing.

The arc of intruder’s sequencing starts at a point of Stockholm syndrome and ends at an addictive parallel in “chainsmoker,” regrettably the ep’s weakest track. At 7 minutes, the repetitive ending clouds out the strength of the album’s body, ending on a destructive yet empty resolution. The penultimate track, “underground,” is a far better cap to the ep. beatrixwashere’s writing roots into themes of life and death, burial and repentance, sin and acceptance, ending with a seemingly positive but unresolved vision of return that can be read as hopeful or hierarchal.

after all god can still love me

a sinner who promises to repent

he gives me yet another chance

to come right back, underneath his rule

Nonetheless, the ep functions as a cohesive whole, exploring themes on a queer struggle of faith. One which many of us may be familiar with, in which the condemnation of practitioners’ clouds faith in a higher love to the suffering of our identity.