One, no one and one hundred Mileys

Anyone familiar with the artistic career of the former Disney star knows well that Miley Cyrus is no longer the Hannah Montana of the past, nor the rebellious girl she became immediately after to break free from the character. The Miley we see today is in every respect a mature pop star and one of a kind: unlike many of her peers, she no longer feels the pressure to top the charts to prove her worth and doesn’t chase success at all costs; in fact, at times, she even shuns it—like in 2015, when she released an entire album of quirky psychedelic pop on Soundcloud, much to her record label’s delight, recorded with the industry-leading band Flaming Lips. If you don’t remember a single song from Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz, it’s because—putting it mildly—it wasn’t exactly a hit. Of course, this doesn’t mean Cyrus isn’t capable of writing great hits—just think of the global success of Flowers, the chart-topping single that even won a Grammy in 2023 for Record of the Year. But the main trait of Miley Cyrus’s musical journey over the last ten years has been her choice to completely disregard the charts and current musical trends, always trying to do something different that follows her instinct and her curiosity for different genres and styles. Even at the risk of seeming almost schizophrenic.

If the edgy pop of Bangerz (2013) was blended with Hip-Hop and R&B influences, Younger Now (2017) delved into her Country roots; while Plastic Hearts (2020) even ventured into glam rock and new wave territory, featuring Billy Idol and Joan Jett. Subtle differences, perhaps, but meaningful ones. The 2023 album Endless Summer Vacation, aside from Flowers, seemed like a compilation of all previous Miley Cyruses, making it very hard to predict what this new Something Beautiful, released last Friday, would be like. Hyped by bold statements, it’s an album that reflects both the singer’s historic eclecticism and her ambitions. First of all, it’s a project that goes beyond music and crosses into the visual realm. Alongside it, there’s also a film, which so far only a few lucky ones have had the chance to see and which will premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival this Friday, June 6, before being officially released in cinemas worldwide (it will arrive in Italy on June 27). In a way, it’s a kind of response to Taylor Swift’s cinematic experience of the Eras Tour, but without the concerts, since Cyrus still seems reluctant to perform live. For now, we’ll have to settle for the album-film combo, which already offers plenty to chew on.

In the interviews leading up to the release, Cyrus didn’t hide her ambitions—in fact, she doubled down: she described the album as «an attempt to heal a sick culture through music» and the film as «a unique pop work fueled by fantasy». Last fall, she told Harper's Bazaar that her original idea was to «remake Pink Floyd’s The Wall, but with a better, more glamorous wardrobe full of pop culture». Leaving aside the bold statement about Pink Floyd, we can at least take the second part seriously: after all, Miley Cyrus studied fashion, and it’s already evident in this project starting from the cover, inspired by an archival collection by Thierry Mugler.

In another long interview given to Zane Lowe’s show, Cyrus stated that the artists she wants to associate Something Beautiful with are not today’s female pop stars, but legends like Prince and David Bowie—not coincidentally, two sacred monsters of musical eclecticism and transformation. Of the two, the new album especially evokes the former, thanks to a blend that unites rock, dance music, and soul ballads into one great experimental pop soul. Prince is also referenced in a verse of Something Beautiful, where When Doves Cry, the timeless track from the Minneapolis prince’s masterpiece album (and film) Purple Rain, is explicitly mentioned. It’s an initial clue that leads us toward the end of the world, which Purple Rain musically represented—an idea Miley revives conceptually. Something Beautiful can be interpreted as the bright side of the end of the world. The lead single, aptly titled End Of The World, with its ABBA-style keyboards and wordless, chorus-only anti-chorus, is essentially an invitation to face the end of everything by dancing. In doing so, Cyrus also reconnects to the Prince of 1999 (the album, not the year), whose concept was essentially a mega-party for the end of the world: in the shadow of the Cold War, Prince’s idea—remembering he was a singer of instinct, not protest—was to party as a way of exorcising the looming tragedy.

In End Of The World, Cyrus also incorporates the party idea, loosely tying it to Paul McCartney more for a sound-alike pun than anything else. But then she seizes the lyrical moment to include a direct reference to the Beatles’ song With a Little Help from My Friends. It may seem like a small detail, but it could very well refer to the help she received from her friends and collaborators in organizing the party—that is, in building the album’s sound. In the past, Cyrus has always worked with various collaborators, but the list on this latest album is astonishing—Pitchfork published a full track-by-track breakdown. It’s impossible to name them all, but under the guidance of producer Shawn Everett (who has worked with Adele, Beck, Perfume Genius, and many others), an entire army of figures from the coolest indie-rock scene came together: names that may be unfamiliar to the general public but are undoubtedly talented musicians, highly regarded in their respective circles—like Nick Zinner of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Molly Rankin and Alec O'Hanley of Alvvays, Cole Haden of Model/Actriz, Brian D'Addario of Lemon Twigs, Adam Granduciel of War On Drugs, and Danielle Haim. And the list could go on.

Among the many, two contributions stand out the most. The first is from Jonathan Rado of Foxygen, who splits the title track wide open with a prog cacophony of a thousand instruments, transforming a simple soul ballad into the album’s most experimental pop song—perhaps excluding only the opening Prelude, made of layered arpeggios and spoken poetry, and the two instrumental interludes seemingly placed there to wow even the most skeptical listeners. The second major contribution comes from Brittany Howard of Alabama Shakes, who first plays the country-tinged guitar on Easy Lover (where the theme of «dancing on the ashes» returns) and then haunts the dance floor on Walk of Fame. The latter is the album’s most dazzling track, capable of spanning three decades of music in just six minutes: from the ‘70s disco of Donna Summer and Giorgio Moroder to the dark synth-pop of New Order and the rave vibes of Underworld’s Born Slippy.

The rest of the album does nothing but merge the various sides of Miley Cyrus into a megamix that alternates the best of ’70s soft rock à la Fleetwood Mac, like the aforementioned Easy Lover, with more danceable tracks. Among the latter, it’s worth mentioning the exuberant Every Girl You've Ever Loved, both for its inspiration from Vogue by Madonna and for the feature by her friend and model Naomi Campbell (no stranger to musical forays). In any case, all the songs are marked by the powerful, raspy voice of Miley Cyrus, who has revealed she suffers from Reinke’s edema. This is a rare condition that has contributed to the new tone of her voice, made even raspier by a polyp on her vocal cords. She was supposed to have surgery in 2019 but ended up canceling it, choosing instead to keep a bit more emotional depth in her voice. In short, Something Beautiful is something beautiful that came out of something ugly. They’ll tell you there are no timeless hits here, but don’t believe it. These are songs written to survive the apocalypse—they are dystopian disco hits, not chart-toppers, songs that literally come from a lump in the throat to reach a brighter spot in the universe. In a world that increasingly resembles a bad copy of Black Mirror, Something Beautiful is our San Junipero.