The Paradox of Beauty in Emily Steinwall’s *but, there’s beauty in the fall from Grace*
There’s something profoundly human about an artist’s struggle to balance ambition with vulnerability. Emily Steinwall’s latest album, but, there’s beauty in the fall from Grace, is a case in point. On paper, it’s a record that promises a raw, cathartic journey through chaos and healing. In practice? Well, it’s more like a beautifully crafted paradox—a work that’s both captivating and frustrating, often within the same track.
The Promise of Chaos, the Lure of Calm
From the outset, Steinwall sets the stage for something bold. The album’s early singles, Soft Animal and Human Anymore, are electric. They’re the sonic equivalent of a defiant scream, with Steinwall’s vocals soaring over Radiohead-inspired guitar arpeggios and grunge-tinged riffs. Personally, I think these tracks are where Steinwall shines brightest—when she leans into her edge, her music feels alive, urgent, and undeniably her own.
But here’s where things get interesting: after this explosive start, the album takes a sharp turn into ballad territory. Tracks like There Is a Light and Rock Me, Baby are undeniably pretty, with Steinwall’s vocals dripping with a vintage, Laufey-esque charm. Yet, they feel almost too safe, too polished. It’s as if the album’s initial promise of chaos gets swallowed by a desire for comfort.
What makes this particularly fascinating is the tension between Steinwall’s obvious talent and her apparent fear of fully embracing her darker impulses. In my opinion, this isn’t just a musical choice—it’s a psychological one. The album’s title itself hints at this: beauty in the fall from Grace. It’s a nod to imperfection, to the idea that even in decline, there’s something worth celebrating. But does Steinwall truly believe that, or is she just paying lip service to the idea?
The Saxophonist’s Dilemma
One detail that I find especially interesting is Steinwall’s use of the saxophone—or rather, her lack thereof. On her debut, Welcome to the Garden, the sax was a defining element, adding a layer of complexity and unpredictability. Here, it’s almost an afterthought, appearing in just one track (Slow Burn).
This raises a deeper question: Why would an artist with such a distinctive skill choose to sideline it? From my perspective, it’s a metaphor for the album’s broader struggle. Steinwall seems to be grappling with her own identity as an artist—does she want to be the bold, experimental saxophonist, or the accessible, ballad-singing songwriter?
What this really suggests is that but, there’s beauty in the fall from Grace isn’t just an album; it’s a snapshot of an artist in transition. It’s messy, it’s uneven, but it’s also undeniably human.
The Beauty of Imperfection
Here’s the thing: despite its flaws, this album has moments of genuine brilliance. Free Spirit, for instance, is an eight-minute epic that manages to recapture some of the grandeur of Steinwall’s debut. It’s a track that feels like a microcosm of the album itself—slow, deliberate, but ultimately rewarding.
What many people don’t realize is that imperfection can be just as compelling as perfection. Steinwall’s sophomore effort isn’t a masterpiece, but it doesn’t need to be. It’s a record that feels like a conversation, not a statement. It’s an artist trying to figure out where she fits in a world that demands both authenticity and accessibility.
Looking Ahead: The Future of Steinwall’s Sound
If you take a step back and think about it, but, there’s beauty in the fall from Grace is less of a misstep and more of a stepping stone. Steinwall is clearly an artist with vision and talent, but she’s still finding her voice. In my opinion, her next album could be something truly special—if she learns to embrace both her light and her shadow.
One thing that immediately stands out is the potential for growth. Steinwall has the chops, the creativity, and the emotional depth to create something groundbreaking. She just needs to trust herself enough to take the leap.
Final Thoughts
At the end of the day, but, there’s beauty in the fall from Grace is an album that defies easy categorization. It’s not a triumph, but it’s not a failure either. It’s a reminder that art, like life, is rarely neat or tidy.
Personally, I think Steinwall’s willingness to expose her vulnerabilities—both musical and emotional—is what makes this album worth listening to. It’s not perfect, but it’s real. And in a world where authenticity is increasingly rare, that’s something to celebrate.
Recommended Tracks: Soft Animal, Human Anymore, Free Spirit
Final Verdict: 6.5/10
What this album really suggests is that sometimes, the journey is more important than the destination. And for Emily Steinwall, that journey is just beginning.
