Expansive yet intimate, ‘We Swallowed the Sky’ finds LA-based singer/songwriter Beatrix transforming memory, longing, and loss into something quietly transcendent.

Stream: ‘We Swallowed The Sky’ – Beatrix

Some albums feel like memories. Others feel like hauntings. We Swallowed the Sky somehow manages to be both at once.

From its opening instrumental passage – delicate, cinematic, and quietly foreboding – the album unfolds with the feeling of stepping into somebody else’s subconscious. The transition into “Ghosts of Tennessee” feels seamless, almost ghostlike in itself, immediately establishing the record’s atmosphere of longing, eeriness, and emotional excavation. What makes the album so striking is not just its vulnerability, but the way Beatrix blends genres so naturally that the shifts never feel abrupt. Folk, Americana, indie rock, chamber-pop – everything exists together in a carefully constructed emotional landscape where chaos and introspection coexist masterfully.

We Swallowed the Sky - Beatrix — We Swallowed the Sky – Beatrix

Released on May 24, 2026, We Swallowed The Sky marks the sophomore album from Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter Beatrix, the moniker of Arielle Kasnetz. After first discovering songwriting during the isolation of the pandemic, Kasnetz has continued carving out a voice defined by emotional honesty and restless musical curiosity. On We Swallowed the Sky, she expands both sonically and lyrically, revisiting formative relationships, family fractures, and the lingering ghosts of memory. Featuring standout tracks like “Dead Dog,” “Class Reunion,” and “Ghosts of Tennessee,” the album builds an expansive soundscape shaped by collaborators including Philip Etherington and Ehren Ebbage alongside a remarkable ensemble of musicians whose credits span artists like Phoebe Bridgers, John Mayer, and Sufjan Stevens.

Sonically, the record drifts between Americana, indie folk, and chamber-pop without ever losing cohesion. There are moments that feel hushed and intimate, carried by piano and swelling strings, while others burst open into noisy catharsis. The title track, “We Swallowed The Sky,” recalls the uneasy waltz-like melancholy of Elliott Smith, balancing tenderness with something darker underneath. Across the album, strings loom with quiet eeriness while bass, piano, and pedal steel become emotional anchors. Greg Leisz’s pedal steel, in particular, functions almost like another character entirely – lingering somewhere between memory and presence, haunting the edges of nearly every song.

**Lyrically, We Swallowed The Sky circles themes of love, identity, infidelity, family, and self-destruction with remarkable precision.**

On “The Enemy,” Beatrix sings: “Cutting down the tree I grow / Telling me that I don’t know at all,” capturing the brutal intimacy of self-sabotage and intrusive thought spirals. Meanwhile, “Dead Dog” aches with emotional starvation and desperation: “I’m on the side of the road / I haven’t eaten for days / But it’s a holiday baby / And you beg me stay.” Throughout the record, Beatrix writes like someone trying to untangle herself in real time, exposing emotional wounds without ever losing the poetry of them.

Several tracks emerge as emotional centerpieces. “The Enemy” begins quietly, almost timidly, before unraveling into something explosive and cacophonous. The song explores the terrifying realization that your own thoughts can become your greatest obstacle – that self-loathing can distort love, perception, and identity. Its ending, chaotic and emotionally overwhelming, recalls the cathartic collapse of Phoebe Bridgers’ “I Know the End” in the best possible way.

Elsewhere, “Upstate” provides one of the album’s most unexpectedly breezy moments.

As the final act in the album’s trilogy alongside “Dead Dog” and “Class Reunion,” it trades devastation for reflection, pairing twangy guitars with lyrics that finally gesture toward release. The line “If I end up back in Texas / At the bridge where we first kissed / I’ll just walk right under it and get over you” cleverly twists the familiar idiom into something bittersweet and quietly triumphant.

Then there’s “Hole to China,” one of the album’s most devastating tracks. Built around piano and swelling strings, the song reflects on childhood, divorce, and places lost to time. Set against memories of a Catskills cabin sold after her parents’ separation, the track becomes less about geography and more about grief itself – the ache of realizing certain versions of home can never truly be returned to. Beatrix’s vocals here are stunning: Restrained, aching, and impossibly human.

What ultimately makes We Swallowed The Sky resonate so deeply is its balance. Every stylistic shift, every instrumental swell, every lyrical confession feels intentional rather than indulgent. Beatrix never sacrifices emotional immediacy for experimentation; instead, the two strengthen each other. The album reveals an artist unafraid of vulnerability, musical risk, or contradiction – someone willing to push beyond genre while remaining deeply rooted in her own voice and history.