An insightful and thrilling concept album from Savannah Pope, Pandemonium melds theatrical rock pursuits with modern pop sophistication — set within a very personal thematic focus. The loss of a friend to suicide inspired Pope’s writing process for Pandemonium, which captures the vitality of resilience amidst explorations of mental illness and resulting emotions like fear, OCD, and fixation on death. Excellent production from Sean Beavan furthers the compelling listening experience on the album, due to release on September 27th.
The title track is an enveloping tone-setter, kicking off the album following the piano-driven instrumental “De Eso No Se Habla.” Spanning from piano-set vocal theatrics to a charismatic symphonic rock vigor, “Pandemonium” is a showcase in lyrical sincerity and eclectic stylistic precision. The initial vocals proclaim a sense of overwhelming tumult in the face of “pandemonium,” — lamenting “I only wish that I could sing above the whole cacophony.” The album stirs in its portrayal of an eroding society, stricken by chaos, and the title track is fully rousing in its fervent ascent into rock-forward invigoration.
The ensuing “Just Another Day” weaves illuminated piano and steady acoustics within continued themes of isolation: “The real adults are gone / They left me all alone / To watch over this place.” The apocalyptic-minded references to the world’s end is equally foreboding, ascending into pulsing rock chirpiness and a satiating final minute. “Melancholic Goddess” is another highlight with themes pursuing societal disillusionment. “I am the Melancholic Goddess,” Pope proclaims with debonair enthrallment, pushing into percussive pit-pattering and the admission “I barely heard my mother cry, before daddy beat her into silence.” The challenge of patriarchal structures and oppression rings with a resonating catharsis.
“Slice of Life” and “Orchid” are also standouts, resonating particularly in their observations of the world’s hostility and the fleeting nature of life. The latter speaks to a desire for death, as an escape from the widespread pandemonium, yet being stopped as “the orchid seemed to call my name,” on the pathway there. A consistent rock-friendly drive persists throughout, representing an approachably melodic sound that pursues lofty themes of existence. Similarly, “Slice of Life” moves with shades of bluesy rock, beckoning to “just gimme my slice of life,” as organs and guitars combine seamlessly.
While “Slice of Life” compels in its desire for one to live life on their own terms, “Live Your Strange” continues self-affirmations in its calls for embracing individuality: “Live your strange, you beautiful thing / I know it feels like a dream / But darling, it’s real.” Pandemonium combines riveting productions — ranging from exhilarating rock to folk-ready introspection — amidst artful interpretations of personal chaos, rebellion against societal constraints, and the invigorating discovery of self.
