If you like to have the idea of an album’s theme before pressing play, the incongruity of the way the leader of Brigitte Calls Me Baby, Wes Leavins, puts together his lyrics and thoughts makes the title Irreversible a hard nut to crack in terms of comprehension on first reading. Perhaps it means the band’s momentum, though. After all, they seem to be on an unstoppable collision course with superstardom. Already a tour support for the similarly opaque and peculiar Morrissey, the band’s momentum and increasing fanbase mean that their follow-up to 2024’s The Future Is Our Way Out has no small amount of intrigue surrounding it.
So, to the meat of the matter, what are we hearing from the band’s sophomore effort? Well, the first thing to say is that, if you like their sound already, don’t worry, it’s still there. From the opener “There Always,” Leavins’ vocal retains the Viva Hate-Morrissey level croon, while the band creates a soundscape that’s pure wall of sound 80s New Romanticism in action. What’s particularly impressive, though, is that in what seems to be an increasing return to the “Loudness War” era (think The Molotovs’ recent release, or Sam Fender’s People Watching), the creation of such a live, immersive sound by Brigitte Calls Me Baby is not purely there to showcase instrumentals and provide some sort of lush reverb. Unlike Fender’s uneven, overly-glossy effort, Irreversible does enough to showcase each instrument at its best, but doesn’t mute the sharpness of Leavins’ pen or the smokiness of his vocals.
While the 80s-throwback kind of sound continues on songs like “I Danced With Another Love,” which is Cure-esque in both its vocal stylings and beauty, Brigitte Calls Me Baby continually show themselves to be more than mere influences and one-trick ponies. There’s a rockier edge on early live favourite “Slumber Party,” while “The Pit”’s slower pace is unusual on an album that largely breezes past, but becomes no worse a song for it.
The first half of the album is all golden, at times playful, yet also retaining the dark, brooding edge that makes this band so fascinating, particularly on “These Acts Of Which We’re Designed”. However, the crowning glory is “Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction,” which is quite possibly the best song on the record. It’s got all the hallmarks of a breakthrough hit, not unlike their introduction that crashed through radio playlists in 2022, “Impressively Average”, full of great lyrics and a sound that feels like driving around on a summer’s day in complete contentment.
After a short instrumental interlude (“Sillage”) to catch our breath, the album clunks for the first, and largely only, time. The pedestrian “I Can’t Have You All To Myself” falls into the realm of Smiths b-side, and not even one of the celebrated ones.
Just as I was concerned that the train might be coming off the tracks, though, along came “I Can Take The Sun Out Of The Sky.” Icarus-like, it soars the album back to near its zenith, rivaling the earlier song as one of the best, and another potential hit. The two closers, particularly the epic “Send Those Memories,” are slightly more introspective and slow-burning compared to the dopamine rush of the potential singles, but they’re well put together, and although they’re not standouts, they form a wonderful part of the overall package.
I’m guilty of it myself throughout this review, but I almost feel that the constant comparisons and insinuations to the band’s influences (The Cure, Radiohead, The Smiths, et al), while hard to avoid do the band something of a disservice. It does sound like many things you’ve heard before. Leavins’ voice really does sound like it’s from a bygone era. The band’s music harkens to the best of post-punk indie, new romanticism, and the kind of jangling indie-pop that defined a generation in the late 80s. and so on. However, it’s much much more than mere thievery, take-off, or pastiche – the band seems to have updated that sound for the modern era.
Just as life repeats itself in cycles, so does music. In an uncertain and unsettling world for many, it’s actually quite reassuring and refreshing to see a band still capable of writing tuneful music that brings a strong emotional connection to its fanbase. Brigitte Calls Me Baby already have their devotees, and it’s difficult not to see this album increasing the number of them.
Perhaps their momentum really is Irreversible. This album certainly feels like it might put them on the fast track to becoming one of the true breakthrough indie bands in a way rarely seen in the modern era. Overall, it’s a fantastic album, and one of the best of the new year. Let’s see what else 2026 brings to the talented quartet, but I doubt it will be dull.
