Miley Cyrus’ Something Beautiful; Larger-Than-Life Pop With a Zero Apologies
Miley Cyrus’ ninth studio album is not for the faint of attention. A lush, swelling, deeply chaotic constellation of maximalist pop songs, Something Beautiful barrels past the expected and lands firmly in the realm of artistic defiance. If Bangerz was Miley’s rebellion and Plastic Hearts her rockstar moment, this is her opus; a record of sprawling song structures, fearless genre bends, and unconcerned nonchalance toward the commercial playbook.
Much like 2015’s misunderstood fever dream Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz, Something Beautiful doesn’t care if you’re onboard. This is an album that exists, overflowingly, gloriously. It’s too long. The songs are too long. The emotions, too big. The sound, proudly unconstrained. But this time around, Miley is more mature. The wrecking ball has swung and steadied. She’s not here to perform rebellion. She’s here to let it breathe, to let it live.
The opening track, “Something Beautiful,” is a rock torch song that erupts into ecstatic brass and soaring electric guitar. It’s intermittently explosive, almost improvised in its emotional surges, and perfectly sets the tone for what’s to come: songs that don’t follow pop structures so much as they float above them.
“End of the World” follows with ABBA-esque piano and a devastating intimacy. It’s a love letter to her mother, Tish, where Miley pleads, “Show me how you’d hold me if tomorrow wasn’t comin’ for sure.” It’s raw and direct, a moment of clarity amid the stylistic fog with a beautifully elevated saxophone moment.
“More To Lose” is a jazzy shimmer of piano and quiet ache, while “Easy Lover” delivers a sultry pop groove with an exquisite hook that’s built to spiral in your head for days. These songs aren’t just tracks; they’re unfolding states of mind.
There’s romance here too; glowing, grown-up, and just a bit trippy. “Golden Burning Sun”, a dreamy love song held aloft by a steady drum pulse, finds Miley loudly belting “surrender.” It’s five minutes of warm, melodic hypnosis, and one of the album’s undeniable highlights.
Then there’s “Walk of Fame”, which is just larger-than-life. Disco synths, a swaggering rhythm, and a blistering guest vocal from Alabama Shakes’ Brittany Howard rocket this track into Giorgio Moroder-meets-Losing My Religion territory. It oozes confidence and funk, a glittery outlier that somehow still feels exactly right.
“Every Girl You’ve Ever Loved” is a swirling standout; saxophone-heavy, violin-laced, and ultimately morphing into a trance anthem alongside a delightfully unexpected Naomi Campbell feature. It’s chaotic, yes, but beautifully constructed in its own way.
By the time we reach “Pretend You’re God”, a slow-burning psychedelic murmur, and “Reborn”, which sees Miley yelling “You’re so beautiful” like she’s casting a spell at her reflection, the album starts to take on a kind of spiritual dimension. These aren’t just songs. They're explorations. Experiments. Exorcisms.
“Give Me Love” closes the album with a gentle, cinematic swell of piano, strings, and flutes. It sounds like it was plucked from a magical fairytale dimension; a perfect final note to an album that feels three-dimensional in its construction.
If there’s a flaw, it’s in the interludes, scattered moments that feel more like pauses than purposeful transitions. They may make more sense in the forthcoming album film, but here, they slightly disrupt the otherwise immersive flow.
Still, it hardly matters. Something Beautiful is an album made by an artist who is no longer interested in fitting in. Cyrus isn’t chasing hits, awards, acclaim, or even your attention. She’s building worlds, audacious ones, full of long songs, larger-than-life production, and genre-busting choices.
It may not be experimental in the way Bangerz or Dead Petz was, but it’s unquestionably daring. There’s no song-of-the-summer here. No radio filler. Just a woman at the height of her artistic power, reminding us, loudly, violently, weirdly, beautifully, that she doesn’t need our permission to evolve.
