The Beths: Straight Line Was A Lie review
New Zealand’s indie favourites find beauty in life’s detours
The Beths, New Zealand’s indie rock darlings, have built their reputation on understated sincerity. Their music channels the raw emotion of Midwest emo through a distinctly Kiwi filter: sunlit, self-aware, and quietly powerful. At the heart is Elizabeth Stokes, whose songwriting captures the tug of everyday anxieties, nostalgia, and the bittersweet weight of growing up. Around her, Jonathan Pierce (guitar), Benjamin Sinclair (bass), and Tristan Deck (drums) wrap her words in jangly guitars, melodic hooks, and four-part harmonies.
Their August release, Straight Line Was a Lie, leans into these strengths. The title track opens with buoyant guitars and deceptively upbeat melodies, as Stokes reminds us that progress is rarely as linear as we wish. It’s a fitting thesis for the album itself: a collection of songs about messiness, setbacks, and the roundabout ways we find meaning. “Mosquitoes” follows with tender nostalgia, capturing the beauty and frustration of New Zealand creeks. Pierce’s guitar solo here is a highlight, classic rock warmth woven into the gentle thrum of an itchy memory. Lead single “Metal” takes a more playful tack, riffing on resilience with science metaphors that stick such as “So you need the metal in your blood, to keep you alive”.
Catching The Beths live in 2023 at Leeds Festival was a reminder of what kind of band they really are. After their set, my photographer and I slipped under the barrier (before we were press) and found Jonathan, Benjamin, and Tristan loading their gear into a tiny van. Elizabeth wasn’t around, but the three of them were welcoming, if not a little baffled by a Kiwi lad suddenly appearing backstage just to say ‘Hi’. Parked right beside them, their Australian counterparts, Lime Cordiale were sprawled out in a luxurious tour bus – a sharp contrast to The Beths’ modest setup. The band were exactly what you’d expect: unpretentious, humble and living their version of rock’n’roll with quiet charm.
That humility threads through the album’s softer cuts as well. “Mother, Pray for Me” strips everything back to guitar and vocals, with Stokes laying bare her search for clarity in the tangle of faith, family, and her relationship with her mother. And when ‘Best Laid Plans’ closes the record, its layered guitars swelling into near–prog rock grandeur, the payoff feels wholly earned – a cathartic release after so much restraint.
Straight Line Was a Lie doesn’t reinvent The Beths, but it doesn’t have to. Their gift lies in making melancholy feel comforting, and in turning small details into big emotions. This is an album equally at home soundtracking a quiet Sunday morning as it is a long, late-night reflection. It’s perhaps the finest example of modern indie rock: catchy yet contemplative, gentle yet powerful, delivered with the understated sincerity only The Beths can provide.