If Model/Actriz‘s debut album, Dogsbody, sheepishly lurks in the dim corners and questionable bathrooms of gay clubs, Pirouette is the infallible star everyone clamors to see. Frontman Cole Haden talks back to his demons, then transforms them into a public spectacle. Rather than scoring the soundtrack for a balls-to-the-wall fuckfest, he wields his carnal transgressions with control in a death blow to detached coolness. Interrogations of fetish and desire face inward. Drawing sonic and character inspiration from the pop divas who helped him embrace his sexuality as a teen, he’s no longer a spectator. He’s the main act.
1. Vespers
The metallic din that sculpted Dogsbody reappears with the suffocating rush of an anxious heartbeat. Melodic pop collides with hypnotic instrumentals. There’s prowess in filth and depravity, but just as much in restraint.
Dogsbody was all sex all the time. Insecurities were implied but never revealed. In a wafting falsetto, Haden succumbs to expectations and desires, and even lets us hear his internal monologue. “Claim that look, match that speed, take that room,” he demands with the fierce diction of a Drag Race guest judge.
2. Cinderella
Haden recounts a formative childhood memory – backing out of a Cinderella-themed birthday party over fear of judgement. Long before he could articulate why he felt different, the loss of innocence left a deep psychic scar. Blistering drums lend a necessary brightness. “Despite all of that pain, I still made it through to the other side. And I don’t have to defend myself like I did. I can let the shield down,” he told Rolling Stone.
Part of the band’s allure lies in their live performances, where Haden glides through the crowd in a pair of pleasers, locking eyes with audience members and forcing them to become active participants. With his gentle push, confident facades collapse to reveal pangs of nascent vulnerability.
3. Poppy
At first glance, infectious pop and dissonant industrial rock don’t have much in common. Model/Actriz effortlessly oscillates between the two with the fluidity that only comes from getting to know your craft. The unlikely concoction of theatrics and harsh noise snaps into place on track three, where Haden leads with the indelible composure of Lady Gaga or Grace Jones.
4. Diva
Impassioned vignettes about shame and lust on Pirouette replace the voyeuristic reflections of Dogsbody. They’re two sides of the same coin, one depraved and messy, the other slightly more demure and refined. As the album progresses, more and more debauchery slips and the dichotomy becomes one. “I’m such a fucking bitch, girl, you don’t even know,” he moans. “Just imagine me absolutely soaked, dripping head to toe in Prada Sport.”
Inspired by true events, this track is an unnerving glimpse of dating fucking while touring the world. One minute he’s cooly migrating from bar to bar. The next, it registers there’s “no home to take you home to.” He bemoans his vices but succumbs to them anyway. Aaron Shapiro, Ruben Radlauer, and Jack Wetmore rearrange the thumping dance floor into a steamy cabaret.
5. Headlights
Pirouette weighs heavy with discomfort and discordance. Saccharine croons accompany guttural moans, which waft atop Shapiro’s pummeling bass. In a spoken word interlude, Haden recounts his first crush, which he was too embarrassed to admit to himself. Exactly halfway through the record, he delivers a sucker punch from which the remainder triumphs.
6. Acid Rain
Wetmore’s delicate finger-picked guitar rests beside equally sweet vocals. Haden’s muscular voice approaches its limit before climbing up even higher. There’s a sliver of room to breathe, but not enough that it’s ever comfortable. Tension is a form of power, too.
7. Departures
The invigorating tick of Wetmore’s guitar and the racing thump of Radlauer’s drums activate a foreboding sense of doom like a roller coaster climbing uphill, ready to plummet at any minute. “All I want is to be beautiful,” Haden reveals.
Their distinct methodology crystallizes here. It’s what made ‘Crossing Guard’ irresistibly danceable. His droning cadence fuses with distorted pulses and white-hot clashes. The elements swell until they burst, giving way to an explosive break, underpinned by Shapiro’s churning bass. We can still dance even if we’re crying.
8. Audience
Amidst jagged textures, Haden buckles under the weight of conformity. It’s the second of a four-song run that identifies the source of his uneasiness, sets it ablaze, and basks in the freedom of self-discovery.
9. Ring Road
Too abrasive for pop and too melodic for no wave, Model/Actriz establishes a class of their own that’s inseparable from their live performances. Haden exorcises his demons in the album’s dizzying climax.
10. Doves
“Within the song, I sing from an empty cathedral, but on a broader level, it explores how a place that once felt like a sanctuary can, over time, become a cage,” says Haden. Noticeably lighter, the second single flips the script on comfort, which can feel more restrictive than liberating.
11. Baton
The supernova continues – first the searing blast, now the sizzling aftershock. This dazzling ballad pays tribute to Haden’s twin sisters. Even when they deviate from their off-kilter sound, they expand upon what they’ve already built without sacrificing their quirks. Always campy and transgressive, Pirouette is the mark of a band that’s honed their strengths and given themselves the freedom to explore.
