Review Summary: High-spirited, polished, and vapid
Despite releasing her debut EP in 2015, it took a collaboration with an oft-lambasted EDM producer and a far inferior rework of a much-loved '90s Eurodance track to catapult Bebe Rexha to the forefront of mainstream consciousness. The reproduction in question, whilst frustratingly infectious and a passable showcase for the artist's vocal abilities, was a poor representation of her individual output. Bebe Rexha's sound is one of groovy, broody whimsicality, occasionally inflected with agreeable jazz influence and R&B stylings, and in these styles she has formerly shown herself more than serviceable. Having branched out further into hip-hop features, country throwbacks and '80s synthpop, it's gratifying to see that her success cheerleading for Mr. Guetta has not impacted her sound too much toward the expected mainstream soup, although there are certainly remnants of the disagreeable electronic mediocrity synonymous with mainstream chart numbers to be found here. Channelling a bygone aesthetic in a similar manner to St. Vincent on her 2021 album, Daddy's Home, Bebe sees Rexha tinkering predominantly with synthy and vibrant discopop in a way that feels sentimental yet assuredly modern. Whilst the hazy wistfulness of the music on display overall is a somewhat refreshing diversion from the typical full-on bubblegum sweetness or oversexualised nonsense saturating the charts, it also feels very generic. There are a pack of genre influences that Rexha is more than happy to draw from, but these variations rarely capture the imagination, and oftentimes feel like little more than ploys to diversify her sound somewhat. Unfortunately, occasional injections of edginess and tasteful genre influences can't distract from the uninspiring nature of the musicality, and the crisp production only draws attention to a lack of genuine creativity.
First things first; Bebe sounds great. There is a warming, sultry tone to her voice that feels simultaneously comforting and sweet, and it's a joy that the mix has her absolute front-and-centre of the compositions. Certain cuts, such as the light jazzy strains and synthpop meanderings of 'Heart Want What It Wants', allows the artist an engaging base layer to express herself from, and she does so in a very likeable way. It's lamentable that the lyricism on the track in question is extremely repetitive and underwritten, causing any goodwill for the instrumentation to fall completely flat. Succumbing much to the same issue in reverse, 'Call on Me', which exhibits far more of the typicality of a mainstream EDM track, has cliché yet relatable and inoffensive lyricism- but is let down by the generic nature of the song's writing and progression. This highlights a key issue with Bebe, in that virtually every song displays an imbalance in quality between lyrics and musical form- where one rises up, the other sinks down and vice versa. This see-sawing feels like a consistent theme on the album, and although certain songs are able to strike a plum balance, these instances are nowhere near as plentiful as they need to be to sustain the album's runtime. The injection of a streetwise edge comes via the inclusion of everyone's favourite stoner and Martha Stewart's BFF Snoop Dogg, who idiosyncratically features on disco number, 'Satellite'. The song itself is middling if likeable, with powerful vocal lines and Snoop awkwardly pattering his way through. His inclusion feels token and unnecessary, and his profanity (along with Rexha's on 'When It Rains' and 'I'm Good') feel crowbarred-in and a cynical attempt to court a somewhat more 'mature' vibe. Of course, Rexha's previous releases had also featured some choice language, but the sparsity of their inclusion here, especially considering the vintage feel of the album's iconography as well as the bulk of its musicality, makes them feel unearned and ill-fitting. Nonetheless, the enthusiasm shown on the aforementioned cut is infectious and it mostly succeeds despite its fumbled songwriting.
Furthering the singer's influence grab-bag is 'Born Again'- a countryfied acoustic number that confidently struts in the mould of an early Shania Twain track, replete with a distorted guitar solo at the end. Rexha even works in a faux-yodel warble, which is a novel but fitting addition, however the sidestep into the country sound does feel a shade inconsistent considering the vibe exhibited in much of the release's content. Continuing the country theme is Dolly Parton collab 'Seasons', which is a simplistic and nauseatingly twee eye-moistener. It's likeable enough, and the unification of Parton and Rexha's vocal tones is surprisingly striking. The songwriting here benefits from a more vintage feel, no doubt due to Dolly's involvement, but as a finale for the album it feels satisfyingly apt in its offbeat mischievousness. Earlier in the release, there are also some distinctively likeable vocal melodies on 'Miracle Man', the album's second track, which actually work impressively well against the new-wave influence of the musicality. Light and airy, it's one of the album's best moments, with an earworm hook and singalong chorus where the vocal tone feels appropriate to the magic of the song's theme. 'Visions (Don't Go)', however, is the polar opposite. Feeling like a poor man's version of the former track, it has the same joyous bounce but not nearly the same amount of imagination, texture or intrigue to afford the song any real staying power. Central piece to the album and a poor representation of the content if ever there was one, 'Blue (I'm Good)' is as by-numbers a modern re-imagining of a classic can get, upcycling the melody and recycling the build for every big room track you ever heard during the 2010s. It's not as painful as it could have been, and Rexha's vocals are utilised very well and her inclusion saves the bop from being as crassly disrespectful as it might otherwise have been.
Despite its effort and wide-eyed earnesty, the substance found on Bebe wouldn't be enough to fill a thimble. There's a distinct sense of affability purveyed in almost every track and its zesty wholesomeness is hard not to get enraptured in, but when the hypnotic affirmations simmer away and the release is broken down to its core components, there is very little of note at work here. The crystal-cut production struggles to counter the poor lyrical and songwriting choices, and even though there is more than a fleeting glance in the direction of maturity and musical development, these inclusions are not substantial enough to give the release any additional fortitude. Rexha's previous output had been far more archetypical of variable pop stylistics, but the nostalgia-courting imagery employed here to bait the disco influence on certain tracks seems misplaced considering the flip-flopping of the music on display. Regardless, there's a pleasant, simplistic enjoyment to be found on the album- mostly owing to the artist's effortless likeability and her honeyed tones- and a meagre evolution that has been influenced in no small way by her first real foray into the big leagues of pop. This toe-dipping is certainly commendable from a standpoint of artistic scope, but in reality it does little to expand her core sound and even regresses it by cheapening the niche she had formerly hollowed out for herself. Nonetheless, Bebe is a genial, trite and innocuous listen, and hopefully, given time, the singer will be able to more convincingly develop her abilities and stake her claim to a variant of pop that doesn't begin from quite so generic a starting point.
